


You're Looking For a Way Out

by camwolfe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Camping, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Hiking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, lumberjack Steve, park ranger Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-10-19 10:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10637580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: Bucky's therapist recommends that he try hiking, so he gives it a shot. He runs into Steve on his very first hike, during an unfortunate encounter with a bird.It goes from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on [ this tumblr prompt that I filled](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com/post/150666610884/if-youre-doing-prompts-could-i-get-actual)

“Exercise,” says Bucky’s new therapist.

“I exercise,” Bucky grumbles. “My apartment has a gym. I lift weights sometimes.”

“I want you to try an outdoor activity,” she says firmly, and writes something down in her notebook. “Preferably something more cardio-based.”  

Bucky scowls.

“It’s crucial to good mental health,” she says. “It’ll help with the insomnia, too.”

Bucky goes home, googles outdoor exercise options, and ultimately choses hiking. It comes down to that and something called Nordic Walking, and hiking seems like the more interesting option.  

He goes out and buys a fancy new backpack, with one of those water things in it so that he can drink without having to reach back for a water bottle. He packs the backpack with granola bars, a packable down jacket (in case it gets cold), and an entire box of bandaids. He also has a very expensive rain jacket and a rain poncho, although he’s not really sure he’d ever need both. His hiking boots are new and shiny. He even wore them around the house for a few days like the sales guy suggested, to make sure they were at least a little broken in.

Bucky drags himself out of bed at a truly ungodly hour on Saturday, groaning to himself and regretting everything. He pulls on his new quick-drying/breathable hiking pants with the ugly zip-off legs and his UV-protective shirt and gets going.

It takes him a while to get up to the base of the trail he picked, but there isn’t much traffic on the road at this hour. The drive is more peaceful than he expects, and he already feels a little better when he leaves the city behind.

He parks his car, grabs his backpack, and sets off.

 

He’s been on the trail for about an hour now. It’s a cooler day, but not cold enough to put a sweater on. The sun is shining, the forest around him is quiet, and Bucky feels great. His brain actually seems remarkably calmer, now that he’s not surrounded by people and noise and the general chaos of the city.

The trail starts to break down as he walks along it. It turns from a neatly packed-down dirt path into rocky switchbacks that wind their way up the side of the hill. It’s a lot tougher than Bucky thought it was going to be, but he keeps going. 

He takes a deep breath to fill his lungs with the clean mountain air, and a bird hits him in the face. 

Bucky screams, and it’s not a little whimper or a yelp. It’s a long-drawn out, hugely embarrassing scream. He quickly follows it up by another moment of hysterical shrieking as he tries to figure out what the fuck just happened. 

The bird flaps around his head for a minute before flying off into the trees again, and Bucky frantically scrubs at his face where the bird hit him. Birds carry diseases, right? Oh god, they probably do, he’s probably infected right now - 

“Are you alright?” someone asks from behind him. Bucky screams again and spins around. 

“Sorry!” the man says hurriedly. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard someone scream so I came running - “ 

“Jesus,” Bucky gasps out, leaning forward and bracing his hands on his knees. “This was supposed to be  _relaxing_.” 

“What was?” the guy asks. “Screaming? Oh, is this one of those catharsis things where people go and scream on the side of a mountain?” 

“No!” Bucky insists, still wheezing a little. “A bird hit me in the face.” 

“That’s weird,” the man says. “Maybe you got too close to its nest.” 

Bucky sighs and stands up again, still scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. It’s only then that he finally gets a good look at the guy. 

He’s hot. Like, really hot. And obviously an honest-to-god mountain lumberjack man. He’s wearing flannel, for fuck’s sake. And carrying a damn axe. 

“Uh,” Bucky says, eyeing it. 

“Oh, sorry!” the guy says. “That probably looks really threatening. I’m just out here to cut firewood, I promise.” He rubs his hand on his flannel shirt and then extends it towards Bucky. “I’m Steve.” 

Bucky reaches out and shakes it, trying to hide the way his hands are still trembling. “Bucky.” 

“Well, nice to meet you, Bucky,” Steve says. “I gotta get going, but I hope the rest of your hike goes okay.” 

He starts off up the trail, going the same way that Bucky was planning on going. 

“Wait!” Bucky shouts. “Are you going all the way to the top?” 

“Of the mountain?” Steve asks. “Almost, yeah.” 

“Can I come with you?” Bucky asks in what he hopes isn’t too pathetic of a tone. The damn bird thing really shook him up, and he doesn’t want to finish the rest of his hike alone.

Steve stares at him for another moment and then shrugs. “Sure, why not.” 

Bucky sighs with relief and scrambles to keep up as Steve starts up the path again. He feels a lot safer now than he did before.

They hike in silence for a few minutes. Bucky has to move quickly to keep up with Steve, and tries his best to avoid looking at the guy’s ass as he scrambles along the trail behind him.

“So,” Bucky says, trying to take his mind off the blisters he can already feel forming on his heels. “What are you doing out here? Do you always bring an axe along to go hiking?”

Steve laughs, and doesn’t slow down at all. “No, I’m not hiking. I live out here.”

“What?” Bucky asks. “How? I didn’t think people were allowed to just… live out here. Isn’t this a protected area or something?”

“They’re not,” Steve explains, and hops easily from one large rock in the middle of the path to another. “I’m a park ranger. This part of the park is pretty quiet, doesn’t get a whole lot of tourist traffic. I live up on the mountain and keep an eye on it. I watch for wildfires, hunters, that sort of thing.”

“Do you get paid?” Bucky asks, climbing awkwardly over the rock and then scrambling to catch up.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Not a lot, basically just enough to live on. My rent’s free though.”

“I would hope so,” Bucky says. “So you’re up here by yourself? All year?”

Steve doesn’t look back as he talks, so he thankfully doesn’t see how much Bucky is sweating and wincing with every step. “Not all year. It gets too cold and dangerous up here in the winter, plus the risk of wildfires is obviously a lot lower. The hunters usually aren’t out either. I go back to the city in the winter, normally.”

“Do you get lonely?” Bucky asks, and then winces. “Shit, sorry, don’t answer that. That’s way too personal.”

Steve laughs, but Bucky can see that his massive shoulders have tensed up a little. “No, it’s okay. Yeah, it can get lonely out here. I chose it though, I knew what I was getting into.”

Bucky wants to ask what would drive a person to spend most of the year in almost total isolation, but he doesn’t, because he’s not quite that socially incompetent.

They hike in silence for another few minutes, until Bucky can’t take the pain in his feet anymore.

“Sorry,” he says as he stops, and Steve looks back at him. “I gotta… I’m getting blisters. You should go on ahead, don’t let me interrupt your day.”

He feels kinda bad for asking Steve to hike with him, now. The guy clearly likes to be alone.

“No, that’s okay,” Steve says, and leans against a tree while Bucky takes his backpack off and fishes around for his bandaids. It takes him a few minutes to get his boots off, bandages on, and then get everything back on again. Steve waits patiently, not even looking like he’s broken a sweat.

Bucky takes a moment to guzzle water from his handy backpack tube before he waves Steve on. Steve seems amused by all of this, but doesn’t say anything as they start up again. He seems to be going a little slower this time though, which Bucky is silently grateful for.

“How much further is it?” Bucky asks.  It’s not that he’s getting tired already or anything. He’s just curious.

“Depends where you’re headed,” Steve says. “Are you going to the lookout point?”

“That was the plan,” Bucky replies, “but really it depends on how much further it’s gonna be before I get there.”

Steve laughs. “It’s only about another thirty minutes.”

Bucky sighs in relief, and then trips over a root.

 

By the time they get to the lookout point, Bucky is covered in sweat. He’s also covered in bruises from falling, dirt and a few scratches on his face from the bird, and mud. A lot of mud.

Maybe his therapist was onto something though, because his head feels much quieter. The tension he carries with him at all times seems to have faded away.

“Well,” says Steve as they finally break free of the trees. “Here we are.”

“Woah,” Bucky mutters as he comes to a stop. The viewpoint looks out over the mountains around them, the sun beating down on the trees. It’s quiet, much quieter than Bucky is used to. The only living thing he can see besides the two of them is some kind of bird off in the distance, circling around something.

“Nice, right?” Steve says quietly. “There’s a good spot to sit over here, if you wanna rest for a few minutes.”

Bucky follows Steve over to where a few large rocks are clustered together. Steve sits down on one, letting his axe fall into the grass beside him. Bucky sits on another and pulls out his granola bars, opening one up and taking another long drink of water.

Bucky wants to keep talking to Steve, but he’s reluctant to start the conversation again. He really doesn’t want to annoy him by talking all the time.

To his surprise, Steve starts the conversation this time. “So, uh,” he says haltingly. “What brings you up here? This trail isn’t as popular with hikers, it’s a little too out of the way.”

“That’s kind of why I chose it,” Bucky explains. “I wanted somewhere a little quieter.”

“Are you new to hiking?” Steve asks, and then blushes when Bucky throws him a mock-offended look. “I just meant – your boots look new, that’s all, I – “

Bucky bursts out laughing. “Steve, it’s okay,” he says. “This is pretty much the first hike I’ve ever done.”

Steve relaxes a little bit. “Why’d you decide to take it up?”

“My therapist’s recommendation, actually,” Bucky says, and Steve blushes even harder.

“Sorry,” Steve says awkwardly. “I shouldn’t have asked – “

“No, it’s cool. She said that I should be exercising, and preferably outside. I did some research and thought this might be worth trying.”

Steve doesn’t keep prying, which Bucky appreciates. “So, how’s it going so far?” Steve asks instead. “Enjoying it?”

“Company’s not too bad,” Bucky says, and then laughs when Steve keeps blushing. “No, seriously, it’s good. I like it. Except for the bird thing, that was scary.”

“Imagine if you’d encountered wildlife that’s actually dangerous,” Steve says solemnly. 

Bucky scowls. “Birds can be dangerous!”

“Not that bird.”

“It was the shock that got me. That’s why I screamed.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, and Bucky shakes his head.

They sit quietly for a few minutes while Bucky finishes his snack and re-bandages his feet.

“You going back down?” Steve asks once Bucky is ready to go again.

“Probably should,” Bucky says. “Which way are you going?”

Steve points in the opposite direction, and Bucky nods.

“Well, it was nice running into you,” Bucky says. “Thanks for escorting me up here.”

Steve smiles. “No problem. Honestly, it was kind of nice to have company.”

They stand awkwardly there smiling at each other for a few moments longer before Bucky awkwardly waves.

“See ya around,” he says, and starts off back down the path. He glances over his shoulder once he’s just started to get back into the trees again, and sees Steve just sitting there on the rocks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I know the water things are called Camelbaks, but Bucky doesn't.  
> -Steve's job is as a Fire Lookout  
> -I'm not American so I'll probably get a few things wrong about how national parks actually run ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ oh well  
> -I'll be able to update more frequently after next weekend, when I will once again be a real human being and not an empty shell of a person who spends every waking moment making flashcards and remembering none of the content on them (exams will be over after next weekend)


	2. Chapter 2

Bucky wants to head out again the next weekend, but the weather ends up being so shitty that he holes up in his apartment instead. He does make the trip back up the mountains the weekend after that, though.

He heads to the same area again, but tries for a different route this time. This particular trail is a little longer, but it apparently has even more spectacular views than the first one.

There aren’t any bird incidents this time. Bucky’s hike is quiet for the first few hours, just him and the trees. It’s very peaceful.

He turns a corner and suddenly his trail seems to split in two. The trail has been fading for a while now, getting less defined and more overgrown, but it was still distinctive enough to follow. Now there’s two faint trails, both leading off in different directions.

Bucky squints at the trails. He decides to defy Robert Frost, so he picks the one that looks a little more beaten down and heads that way.

An hour later, he realizes he’s made a mistake.

The trail is completely gone, and he’s just walking through the forest now. He tries to turn around and go back to the trail to follow it again, but now he can’t find it at all.

Bucky takes a deep breath and reminds himself to stay calm. He’s got a few hours left before it gets dark. He has snacks and water. He’s fine.

He starts walking again. It’s hard to tell through the trees, but he’s pretty sure this is the direction that’ll take him back to his car.

 

“I’m not fine,” Bucky announces to the trees a few hours later.

It’s getting dark, much faster than Bucky had thought it would. The sun is disappearing, and taking all the heat with it. Bucky only has one granola bar left, and he’s had most of his water.

He pulls his phone out and holds it up, but he still has no signal. He’s been checking repeatedly, but he’s been out of range for hours.

Bucky’s starting to panic a little now. He’s not an experienced hiker by any means, but he’s well aware of how dangerous it is to be lost outside in the dark.

He starts to move faster, pushing through the trees and undergrowth. His movements grow more frantic as he starts to panic even more, pushing him into almost a run.

He’s moving fast, in what he hopes is the right direction, when he hears a noise to his right.

Bucky instantly freezes. The noise was loud, like someone stepped on a stick or something. It could be a bear, or a mountain lion. Maybe it’s just a deer, but what if –

Bucky stands completely still, listening, trying to keep his breathing as quiet as possible. His heart is pounding, he’s going to sue his fucking therapist because this isn’t relaxing _at all_ –

Then, he hears the sound of someone humming quietly.

Bucky takes a chance. “Steve!” he shouts, and prays to whoever might be listening that it’s really Steve and not a demon or a murderer.

The sounds of movement stop, and then he hears a voice say “Bucky?”

“Steve!” Bucky shouts again, relief coursing through him. There’s more rustling in the dark trees, and suddenly Steve is standing in front of him.

He’s dressed like he was on the day Bucky met him, in heavy jeans and a flannel shirt. He’s got a jacket on now, a thick woolen one that looks warm and cozy.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” Steve asks incredulously.

“I am so glad to see you,” Bucky says instead of responding. He wants to throw his arms around Steve, but he figures that might be inappropriate. “Steve, I am so fucking lost.”

“You’re lost?” Steve asks, looking horrified and maybe mildly angry. “Bucky, it’s almost dark.”

“I know!” Bucky says. “That’s why I’m so glad I ran into you.”

“Are you – “ Steve starts, and then stops himself. “I can’t let you go back down the trail by yourself this late at night.”

Bucky stares at him. “So…”

Steve looks irritated. “Come with me,” he says. “You can stay the night at my place and go down in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Bucky says. He’s uncomfortable now. Steve clearly doesn’t want to deal with this.

Steve has already turned and started walking away. “It’s dangerous to hike down in the dark,” he calls over his shoulder. “I’ll show you the way in the morning.”

Bucky hesitates, but he doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. There’s no other option, so he follows Steve.

By the time they break out of the treeline again, it’s completely dark outside, and cold. Bucky trudges miserably behind Steve, his feet aching and his skin scratched up from pushing through the forest.

They’re in a clearing of some sort, and then Bucky sees a small cabin through the darkness.

Steve leads the way up onto the small porch and goes inside, leaving the door open for Bucky to follow.

Bucky blinks in the sudden brightness, and it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust.

The cabin is small, but cozy. The main room consists of the kitchen and living room. There’s a small couch and armchair in one corner, with a bookshelf on the other side of a coffee table. The kitchen is small but clean, with a tiny table and two chairs.

It’s meticulously tidy. The books on the shelf are clearly carefully organized, and the kitchen is spotless.

“The couch turns into a bed,” Steve says, opening a closet door and pulling out a neatly folded pile of blankets and sheets. “I’ve also got extra toothbrushes and toothpaste. You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Bucky says awkwardly, hovering by the door. “I can just crash on the couch, I don’t need all of this.”

Steve shrugs and drops the blankets on the coffee table. He sets to work on pulling out the couch into a bed. “There’s not really another choice. You can’t hike down alone in the dark. Even if I go with you, it’s dangerous. And I’m definitely not going to call in a helicopter to get you out.”

“That’d be cool, though,” Bucky says, and then holds up his hands when Steve shoots him a glare. “I’m kidding.”

Steve sighs and starts pulling the sheets over the now-unfolded couch mattress. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I got lost,” Bucky says truthfully. “I didn’t mean to be out this late. The trail kind of split off, and I guess I went the wrong way.”

“How long did it take you to realize you were lost?” Steve asks. He stomps back over to the cupboard and pulls out two pillows.

“Maybe half an hour? Forty minutes?”

“When you realize you’re lost, you’re supposed to stop walking,” Steve says, scowling. “If you stay where you are, it’ll be much easier for us to find you. You keep going, and there’s a good chance no one will ever find where you’ve wandered off to.”

“You wouldn’t have found me anyway,” Bucky counters. “No one even knew I was out here.”

Steve stops stuffing the pillow into a pillowcase and turns to stare at him. “You’re kidding, right? This is another joke?”

Bucky shrugs. “No.”

“You – “ Steve starts, and then stutters for a moment in apparent horror. “You should never go hiking without telling someone where you’re going!”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to scowl. He thinks about lying, for a moment, but decides to tell the truth. “I don’t have anyone to tell,” he says.

Steve stares at him for a long moment. “Oh,” he says finally. “Well. Still.”

They look at each other for a long moment, and then Steve apparently decides to keep lecturing.

“Do you have a map?” he asks. “A compass? Please tell me you have a GPS or a beacon. You don’t need it for easier hikes, but out in the backcountry like this?”

“No, I have my phone,” Bucky says.

Steve takes a deep breath. “Do you have signal on it?”

“Well, no,” Bucky says. He’s quickly realizing how unprepared he is to do all of this.

Steve shakes his head and mutters something under his breath before turning back to the couch. “You could have died tonight. You could fall and break your neck, or the exposure could get to you.”

“Eh,” Bucky says dismissively. “We all gotta go sometime, right?”

He quickly realizes that Steve does not find that type of dark humour funny at all, when he stands up and just stares at Bucky.

“Sorry,” Bucky says. “Just… joking again.”

“I hate finding bodies,” Steve says. He’s not smiling.

There’s silence again for another few moments. Bucky doesn’t know what to say.

Finally, Steve disappears into another door down a small hallway. He emerges carrying a toothbrush, toothpaste, a towel, and a small pile of clothes. 

“Here,” he says, and drops them on the coffee table. “That’s the washroom in there. You can shower if you want, but try not to take long. The hot water runs out after a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Bucky says quietly.

“Are you hungry?” Steve asks. He seems a little calmer now, but he’s avoiding Bucky’s gaze.

“A little.”

“I’ll make you something,” Steve says. “Go shower, you should clean out those scratches.”

Bucky takes the towel and pile of clothing and escapes into the washroom. It’s tiny, with just enough room for a sink, toilet, and stand-up shower.

Sure enough, the water gets lukewarm at best and then immediately starts to get cold again. Bucky stays in there just long enough to get clean and let the water run over the scratches on his arms and face.

It’s weird changing into clothes that aren’t his, but he has to admit it’s far preferable to changing back into his dirty, sweat-soaked clothing. Steve’s clothes are soft and smell like laundry detergent. Bucky wonders how Steve does laundry all the way out here, but he feels like there’s too much tension between him and Steve right now to ask.

He heads back out into the main room of the cabin, and finds Steve standing at the small countertop. He’s created a plate of sandwiches, which he holds out to Bucky.

Bucky takes the plate and sits down at the table. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he takes the first bite, and then nearly shoves the rest of the sandwich into his face.

Steve finally smiles a little. “There’s more if you want it,” he says.

“How do you get these vegetables all the way up here?” Bucky says, trying not to talk with his mouth full. “It’s not like there’s a grocery store around.”

“They do a delivery for me usually once a week,” Steve says. He’s still leaning against the counter, watching Bucky. “I hike down and meet the truck, and then hike back up with all of it. Tried growing my own for a while, but the deer kept eating it, so I gave up.”

Bucky finishes his sandwich. “Well, thanks for the food anyway.”

Steve nods once, and then goes back to standing there with his arms crossed, frowning.

“Hey,” Bucky says finally, after he finishes chugging the glass of water Steve gave him. “I really didn’t mean to get lost. I left plenty of time to get back down the trail, but by the time I realized I was lost I couldn’t find my way back again.”

Steve sighed, still avoiding Bucky’s gaze. “You have to be more careful.”

“Sure,” Bucky says, but Steve still doesn’t seem satisfied.

“I’m tired of finding bodies,” Steve murmurs again, staring at the floor.

“That happen often?” Bucky asks carefully.

Steve shrugs. “More than I’d like,” he says. He finally pushes away from the counter and comes over the table, taking Bucky’s water glass and refilling it before bringing it back. “Lost hikers, injured climbers, that sort of thing."

“Rough job,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs again and then falls silent. He takes Bucky’s plate away and starts washing it.

“I can do that,” Bucky offers, and Steve just shakes his head.

Bucky sits and waits while Steve finishes cleaning up. “So,” he says finally. “What do you do for fun around here?”

“Read,” Steve says, fiddling with the dishrag. “Draw.”

He doesn’t say anything else.

It’s only about eight, and Bucky will do anything to put off trying to go to sleep, so he tries to think of an activity they could do. “Do you have cards?” Bucky asks. “We could play something. I mean, unless you have work to do or something?”

“Oh, yeah, I do,” Steve says, and finally turns around. “Cards, I mean, not work. Hold on, let me find them.”

Steve opens up a small storage cabinet beside the bookshelf and crouches down, staring into it. From what Bucky can see, it looks meticulously organized, just like everything else in the cabin.

Sure enough, it’s only a moment before Steve stands up again, holding a deck of cards in his hand.

“What do you want to play?” he asks, coming over and sitting down across from Bucky at the table.

“Whatever, I’m not picky,” Bucky says. “Rummy?”

“Alright,” Steve says, and they start the game.

They play quietly. It’s awkward. Steve seemed a lot more at ease when they were hiking.

“Sorry,” Steve says finally, once they’ve been playing for a while. “I know I’m a little… quiet. It’s not you. I’m just… I’ve gotten pretty used to being alone all the time.”

Bucky shrugs. “Hey, I’m the one who’s invading your isolation cabin. I should be apologizing, not you.”

Steve laughs suddenly, the smile changing his face. “Isolation cabin? That sounds like I’m in quarantine.”

“Maybe you’re not actually a park ranger at all,” Bucky muses, drawing another card. “For all I know, you’re actually patient zero in the zombie apocalypse and were placed here by the government to protect society.”

“Wouldn’t they have just killed me?” Steve asks. He tosses a card down onto the pile. “Seems like a waste of resources to keep me alive.”

“Your blood is too valuable for that,” Bucky says. “Or you could be a serial killer who lures people in his cabin.” He looks up suddenly. “Wait, you’re not actually a serial killer, right?”

Steve laughs again. “No. And I’ve got my credentials and certification here if you want to see them.”

“’Nah, it’s alright,” Bucky says, and picks up a card. “Even if you are a serial killer, there’s not much I can do about it now.”

“This is exactly why you should tell someone where you’re going hiking,” Steve says, but he’s smiling this time. “You never know when you’re going to run into an axe murderer.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I get it, I get it. I’ll tell someone next time.”

They play cards for a while longer, and then Steve stretches and gets up. “I’m going to go to bed,” he says. “I don’t mind if you stay up, though. Feel free to read any of the books.”

“Alright,” Bucky says, his heart sinking. He’s not looking forward to this.

“You need anything else?” Steve asks, and Bucky shakes his head. “Well, goodnight then,” Steve says, and heads down the small hallway to the room Bucky assumes is his bedroom.

Steve shuts the door behind him, leaving Bucky alone in the main room.

Bucky sits there for a few minutes and then gets up, turning most of the lights off in the room except for the small lamp next to the makeshift bed.

He grabs a random book from the nearly organized shelf and crawls onto the bed. He opens the first page and stares at it, not processing any of the words.

He hears the bedroom door open and then the bathroom door close, and then the opposite a few minutes later. The cabin is quiet again, and Bucky is twitchy.

He has a hard enough time going to bed on a normal night in his own apartment, let alone sleeping on a lumpy mattress in an unfamiliar place. He doesn’t want to have nightmares here, it would be horrendously embarrassing. There’s a reason Bucky doesn’t have a roommate.

Bucky lays down and pulls the blankets over him. It’s absurdly quiet in the cabin. Bucky is used to the noise of the city as a constant backdrop to his attempts to sleep, and this is unsettling.

The only sound in the cabin is the rustle of the trees in the wind outside, and even that only stirs up every once in a while.

Bucky lays there and stares at the dark ceiling, the blankets soft and warm against his skin. There’s no sound from Steve’s room at all. It doesn’t even sound like the guy is breathing.

Bucky expects to continue his usual nightly routine of lying awake, but to his surprise, he feels exhaustion start to creep over him. His heart doesn’t even have a chance to start its nightly racing. His thoughts start to lose their coherence, and before he knows it he’s sinking into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Bucky jerks awake, feeling like he’s been kicked in the chest as his heart thuds loudly.

He struggles out from under the blankets, trying not to pant too obviously. He’s lucky that he woke up before he really started sweating; it would have been embarrassing to try and explain that to Steve.

Bucky sits on the edge of the mattress, scuffing his feet against the wood floor. He rakes his hands through his hair, trying to slow his breathing. He doesn’t even think he was actually having a nightmare. It was just the anxiety that consumes his every moment kicking him awake. He’s actually impressed that he slept this long.

His heart keeps racing, and his body keeps trying to hyperventilate no matter how hard Bucky tries to keep his breathing steady. There’s no way Steve’s going to stay asleep for much longer if Bucky keeps this up.

Finally, Bucky stumbles to his feet and to the door of the cabin. He flips the latch on the door and pulls it open, letting in a rush of cold night air.

He steps out onto the balcony and sucks in a deep breath of the cold air. It’s bracing, and he can feel the sweat cool against his skin almost immediately.

Bucky stumbles over to lean his forearms against the porch railing. His heart rate starts to lower the longer he breathes in and out.

He hears the cabin door open and groans quietly. Not only has he ruined Steve’s night, but now he’s woken him up, too.

“Bucky?” Steve says cautiously. He sounds groggy. “Are you okay?”

“M’ good,” Bucky mumbles, not turning around. “Sorry. I’m fine. Sorry I woke you up.”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Let me know if you need anything,” he says sleepily, and then Bucky hears the door shut behind him as he goes back inside.

Bucky stays out there for a while longer. It takes surprisingly little time for him to come down from it. Normally, it can take hours before he even starts to feel a little tired again, but he already could probably fall back asleep right now.

It’s peaceful and cold outside, reminding him exactly of where he is and where he isn’t. The trees sway very gently in the breeze, illuminated only by the moonlight. The porch smells like wood and pine needles.

Finally, when Bucky starts genuinely feeling tired, he gets up and heads back into the cabin. He locks the door behind him and crawls back onto the bed, pulling the flannel blankets back over him. The warmth of the cabin is a relief after the chill of outside, and Bucky’s asleep again before he knows it.

 

He wakes up feeling more rested than he has in years.

Bucky sits up groggily, looking around. Morning sunlight is just starting to stream through the cabin windows.

The front door is open slightly, like someone didn’t want to close it too loudly. Bucky sleepily rolls out of bed and stumbles out into the porch.

Steve is sitting on one of the porch chairs, wearing just flannel pants and a t-shirt. His hair is a mess, sticking up all over his head, and there’s still lines on his face from his pillow.

“Morning,” he says, and smiles. Bucky’s heart skips a beat, and he wants to groan. This is too much for this morning.

“Hey,” he croaks out, and flops into a chair on the other side of the deck. It’s still cool outside, but not cold enough for Bucky to get chilled.

They sit quietly for a few minutes, looking out over the view. Steve’s cabin is strategically placed to get the best view possible of the surrounding mountains, and the view is both peaceful and breathtaking. Bucky is almost asleep again when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

His eyes fly open. “Woah,” he breathes.

A herd of deer has quietly made its way out of the trees and into the clearing surrounding Steve’s cabin. They move slowly, grazing as they go.

Bucky turns to look at Steve, his eyes wide. Steve grins at him and holds a finger up to his lips, motioning for him to stay quiet and still.

They sit there in silence until the herd drifts back into the woods again.

“That was incredible,” Bucky whispers once they’re gone. “I mean, I’m sure it’s not that exciting to you, but I rarely leave the city.”

“It’s still cool,” Steve says, and gets up. “Breakfast?”

 

Bucky still can’t understand how Steve can make such great meals when he lives on the top of a mountain, but it’s delicious. Steve takes a quick shower and Bucky gets changed back into his gross clothes from the day before while he waits. He tidies up the room and pushes the bed back into the sofa, trying to make everything as tidy as it had been before he got here.

“Well,” Steve says when he emerges again. “I can take you back down right now, if you want.”

Bucky had kind of assumed that was going to be the plan, but Steve looks hesitant now. “Or?”

“You can stick around if you want,” Steve says in a rush. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, and he looks nervous. “I mean, you don’t have to, you probably have stuff to do – “

“Steve, I have nothing to do,” Bucky says honestly. “Obviously I need to be back by tonight, I have work tomorrow, but until then I’m good. I’d love to hang around here for a while.”

Steve smiles. “Alright. If you’re sure. There’s something cool pretty nearby here, if you wanna see it. It won’t take very long. We can come back and have lunch, and then I’ll take you back down.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky says. “Do I need to bring my backpack?”

Steve thinks about it. “No, I’ll bring mine, I’ll throw in an extra water bottle for you. Just bring your rain coat.”

Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Why?”

“You’ll see!” Steve says cheerfully, and goes back into the bedroom. He emerges a moment later with a huge backpack that looks stuffed with supplies, then fills up two water bottles and puts them in there too.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to carry anything?” Bucky asks as he pulls his rain jacket out of his bag. “That looks heavy.”

“It’s fine,” Steve says dismissively, and then his eyes widen as he looks at Bucky’s jacket. “That’s a four hundred dollar coat.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees as he puts it on. “The sales guy said it was the best one.”

Steve stares at him for a moment and then shakes his head. “Anyway. Let’s get going.”

Steve doesn’t lock the door behind him when they leave.

“Guess there’s nobody around to rob you, huh?” Bucky says as they start off.

Steve shrugs, despite the heavy backpack. “Even if there was, there’s nothing of value in there worth robbing.”

“Come on,” Bucky says as he follows Steve into the forest. “Surely some wild animal would love to get to that food you have in your kitchen.”

“I keep all the packages sealed and all fresh food refrigerated to cut down on the scent,” Steve says, not sounding out of breath despite the fast pace he’s setting. “If I need to camp somewhere for the night, I either hang my food out of reach of animals or put it in bear-safe containers.”

“Oh,” Bucky says. “I was kind of joking, but that actually makes a lot of sense.”

Steve laughs. “You can never be too careful out here. Watch your step.”

Bucky successfully navigates around the tree roots reaching out from the ground and scrambles to keep up with Steve. He tries to keep his breathing slow enough that Steve won’t notice how out of breath he is.

As they walk, Bucky notices that Steve’s got some kind of holster attached to his belt. “Is that a gun?” he asks without even thinking.

“What?” Steve calls over his shoulder, and then seems to figure out what Bucky’s talking about. “Oh, no, it’s my bear spray.”

He stops and turns to face Bucky, pulling it out of the holster.

“Oh,” Bucky says, feeling ridiculous. “That makes more sense. Carrying a gun seemed a little out of character for you.”

Steve smiles. “You think you know me pretty well already, huh?”

“Sure,” Bucky says, with more confidence than he feels, and Steve smiles again and shakes his head. He reholsters the bear spray and keeps walking.

“Do you run into a lot of wildlife?” Bucky asks, trotting after him. “Also, if a bear was actually attacking you, would you really have time to use that stuff?”

“Pretty often,” Steve replies. “It’s fairly remote out here, so you’ll see a lot more than you would on the more popular trails or down by the highway. They usually avoid me, though, and I avoid them. And for your bear spray question, it really depends on the situation. Yeah, sometimes you’re not going to have time to pull it out and get it ready and spray it, but sometimes you would. And in that situation, you really don’t want to be regretting leaving it at home.”

“The guy at the store was trying to sell me a bunch of bear stuff,” Bucky said, hopping over a rock and jumping down the other side. “Bear bells, I think? Do those actually work?”

Steve hesitates. “Well…” he says slowly. “Yes. You want them to hear you coming so they can get out of your way. Really, most wildlife wants nothing to do with you. So the sound of the bear bell is a warning for them.”

“But?” Bucky asks.

“But they’re so annoying,” Steve says with a sigh, and Bucky laughs. “No, seriously, they’re so irritating to listen to all day. Don’t repeat that to anyone, because professionally I should be telling you safety first, but when you’re on a five day backpacking trip and someone in your group has one of those goddamn bells, it’s all you can hear. There’s all the peaceful wilderness around you, and that bell’s just like ding, ding ding – “

Bucky cracks up laughing at the passion in Steve’s voice, and Steve glances over and gives him a small, pleased smile.

“So I should make as much noise as possible, is that you’re saying,” Bucky says.

“Within reason.”

“Should I sing?” Bucky asks. “I can sing. Not very well, but I’m sure the bears don’t care about that.”

“If you want,” Steve says with amusement.

“What do you think would be more annoying, me singing for a five day backpacking trip or a bear bell?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Steve says. “I haven’t heard you sing.”

Bucky racks his brain for a particularly irritating song to sing, and goes for it. “This is the song that never ends – “

“Oh no,” Steve says.

“It goes on and on my friends,” Bucky continues, and then increases in volume. “Somebody started singing it, not knowing what it was – “

“I set myself up for this,” Steve mumbles sadly.

“And they’ll continue singing it forever just because – “

Steve sighs.

“This is the song that never ends, it goes on and on my friends. Somebody started singing it – “

“Honestly, it’s still better than the bear bell,” Steve muses. “There’s only so long you can keep this up. Those bells can go forever.”

“Excuse you,” Bucky says indignantly, pausing his singing momentarily. “I can keep going.”

“If I politely ask that you don’t, is that rude?” Steve asks, and Bucky bursts out laughing again.

 

The rest of the hike only takes them about another twenty minutes. Steve is clearly in his element, looking more relaxed than Bucky’s ever seen him.

He starts to slow down, glancing over his shoulder at Bucky and smiling.

“What?” Bucky asks, self-consciously. Just then, he starts to hear the sound of running water.

“We’re here!” Steve says happily, and then darts around another few trees and out into a small clearing.

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathes as he follows Steve.

They’re standing in front of a massive waterfall. It’s probably not that big as far as waterfalls actually go, but it’s not a little creek, either. It’s loud, and Bucky can feel the mist from it all way back here.

“It’s beautiful, right?” Steve asks, smiling widely.

“Yeah,” Bucky says reverently, staring up at it. Beside him, Steve takes his backpack off and sets it against a tree. He pulls out his rain jacket and throws it on.

“Put yours own,” Steve instructs as he hands it to him, so Bucky does. “You’re probably still going to get wet, are you okay with that?”

“Uh, sure,” Bucky says warily, eyeing both Steve and the waterfall. “Why? What are we – “

Steve runs ahead again. “Come on!” he calls over his shoulder, and then starts scrambling up the rocks next to the waterfall.

“Woah,” Bucky says warily, stopping at the base of the rocks. They’re covered in water, and Bucky doesn’t even know where to start climbing.

“It’s okay, just be careful,” Steve calls from above. “I wouldn’t take you up here if I thought it was dangerous.”

“How deep is that?” Bucky asks, staring down at the pool of water underneath the waterfall, before it turns into a stream that runs down into the woods.

“Not deep at all,” Steve assures him. “Even if you fell in, it would barely go up to your waist. Come on, put your foot there. That’s right. Okay, now reach up and grab onto that darker rock to your left – “

With Steve’s coaching, Bucky soon catches up to where Steve’s standing. To Bucky’s surprise, they’re now right in front of fairly wide ledge.

“Ready?” Steve asks. His hair and face are sparkling with mist from the water, and his eyes are startlingly bright.

“Yup,” Bucky says, and Steve flips up the hood on his jacket. Bucky does the same, and Steve leads the way across the ledge and into the waterfall.

Bucky presses himself close to the rock as they go, even though there’s really plenty of room for him to walk. It’s not even a particularly steep drop. Bucky would probably only fall maybe five feet before he could catch himself.

He holds his breath as the force of the waterfall hits him. It’s surprisingly strong, and he almost stumbles, more out of surprise than anything.

He feels Steve grab his wrist and pull him forward. Bucky stumbles into him, and Steve steadies him, laughing.

“You good?” Steve shouts over the roar of the waterfall.

“Yeah!” Bucky shouts back, trying to ignore how very warm Steve’s hand felt around his wrist, even through the damp cold of the water falling around them. “This is so cool!”

“I know!” Steve says.

They’re in some kind of cave, tucked behind the waterfall. It isn’t very deep, and there’s not much in there, but it’s incredible to watch the curtain of water that’s cutting them off from the rest of the world.

Bucky holds his hand out into the water, eyes wide as the water runs over his skin.

They stay in there for just a few minutes. It’s bitterly cold in there, the damp chill setting in even through Bucky’s pricy raincoat.

“I’ll go first,” Steve shouts, leading the way back over the ledge.

“You gonna catch me if I fall?” Bucky calls back.

“Probably not,” Steve shouts. “But I’ll be here to pull you out of the water.”

“Comforting,” Bucky grumbles, and carefully climbs down after him.

Neither of them fall. By the time he’s back on solid ground, safely back a few feet from the slippery rocks by the waterfall, Bucky feels more alive than he has in ages.

Bucky turns to grin at Steve. Steve’s smiling back at him.

“Invigorating, right?” Steve says.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. He’s a little chilled and out of breath from the climb, but other than that, he feels great.

They hang out at the waterfall for a while longer, throwing rocks and sticks into it. Steve walks around the area and makes notes in a small notebook he pulls out of his backpack. Bucky sticks his hand into the creek and lets the cold water run over his skin.

“We should get going,” Steve finally says, sounding much less cheerful. “I want to make sure you get down with enough time.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, but his heart is sinking too. He’s starting to dread going back home.

Steve takes him all the way back down to his car, despite Bucky’s protests.

“Wouldn’t want you getting lost again,” Steve says, and ignores Bucky’s grumblings.

The walk down is definitely quieter. Steve had seemed so much happier this morning, but his responses to Bucky’s questions get shorter and shorter as they get closer to the parking area where Bucky left his car.

“You okay?” Bucky finally asks. The trail is starting to flatten out, the trees becoming a little more sparse.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve says automatically. “It’s just…”

He doesn’t say anything else, so Bucky prompts him. “Just what?”

Steve shrugs, not looking back at Bucky as he leads the way. “I kind of forgot what it’s like to have someone to talk to. It’s nice.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say to that, and it strikes him as painfully sad. Steve just seems so lonely.

“What are you doing the weekend after next?” Bucky asks.

He can see the tips of Steve’s ears turn red. “Aw, Buck, you don’t have to… don’t feel like you have to come up here just to keep me company.”

“I’m not!” Bucky protests. “I want to. Seriously, Steve, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t offer. I’ve got a work thing next weekend on both Saturday and Sunday, but I’m totally free the weekend after.”

Steve seemed to relax a little. “Well, if you’re sure… there’s a lot more trails and things around here that I could show you.”

“More waterfalls?” Bucky asks hopefully.

Steve laughs. “A few more, but none that are quite as cool as that one. Plus, all the tourists know about the others. I’ve got some other hidden gems, though.”

“Well, alright then,” Bucky says. “Does Saturday around 10 work?”

“Yep.”

“Guess I’ll see you then,” Bucky says, and gets back into his car. Steve stays in the parking lot as Bucky drives away, staring after him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for PTSD related anxiety attacks, general anxiety, and vomiting

Bucky meets up with Steve on that Saturday, as planned. Steve takes him to a quiet lake, high up in the mountains. The water is crystal clear, and despite Bucky’s strong desire to swim in it, apparently the mineral content in the water would make him sick. Steve ends up dragging a reluctant Bucky away.

Bucky sees Steve the next weekend, and the next. He doesn’t stay overnight, but their hikes get longer. Steve usually brings enough food with him that they can stop for lunch, and sometimes even dinner.

Bucky hates going back down to the city again. If he had his way, he’d just stay up there with Steve and never come down.

But he has a job, and he’s not even sure if Steve’s technically allowed to have others live in his cabin with him, so back to work he goes.

He’s supposed to be meeting Steve on the weekend again. It’s the only thing that carries him through his shitty week, and then his shitty Friday. He gets home from work and flops straight down onto the couch. He only gets up to accept his pizza delivery, and then sits down again.

The shitty day quickly turns into a shitty night. Bucky tries to go to bed at a reasonable time, because he’s got to be up fairly early to meet Steve, but his brain decides it’s just going to be one of those nights.

Bucky lies in his back in the dark, his heart racing. There’s no particular reason for it, but it’s doing it anyway. His stomach churns and rolls, and more than once Bucky has to frantically scramble to get out of bed because he feels like he’s going to throw up. He doesn’t, and ends up crawling back into bed feeling even worse than before.

He sweats so much that his sheets start to get gross and damp. His muscles are aching from how tightly wound he is, and nothing seems to calm his mind down.

Bucky finally gets up around two in the morning and turns some lights on. He grabs a book and tries to read for a while, but his brain is buzzing too loudly for him to focus. He’s exhausted, and he wants to sleep, but he’s way too wired to even try lying down again.

Eventually, Bucky goes out to his couch and tries sleeping there. Nothing happens. He tosses and turns and ends up running his hands through his hair over and over, trying to calm himself down.

At 4:30, he gives up completely and gets up. He takes a quick shower to wash the sweat off of him, throws on his hiking clothes, and packs his backpack for the day. He gets into his car feeling sick and exhausted, but he knows better than to add caffeine into the mix.

There’s no one on the roads at this hour, and he makes it up to the mountains in record time. He parks in his usual spot in the gravel parking lot at the base of the main trails and reclines his seat.

He rolls down the window a little. Cool, clean air drifts into his car, filling his tired lungs. He throws his jacket over top of himself, and stretches out as best he can in the seat.

It’s very quiet. The only sound is the trees rustling in the breeze, and a few bird calls.

Bucky finally falls asleep.

 

He jolts awake, heart pounding and gasping for breath. He sees Steve quickly jump back from his car window, where he must have been knocking.

“Sorry!” Steve calls through the slightly open window. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Bucky waves him off and sits there for a minute, trying to get his breath back. He feels marginally better than before he fell asleep, but he still feels pretty shitty.

He finally opens the door and gets out, taking his coat with him. He grumpily shoves his arms into the sleeves, zipping it up to his chin. He’s uncharacteristically cold today.

“Hey,” Steve says uncertainly. “Uh, sorry, again. Do you want to sleep a little more? You look…”

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, and it comes out a lot sharper than he intended. He sighs inwardly and opens the back door of his car. He starts getting his backpack ready.

“Okay,” Steve finally says. “Um, what do you want to do today? There’s a hot spring that I thought you might want to see.”

“Sure,” Bucky says. He pulls his backpack on and locks the car up.

Steve awkwardly nods and leads the way out of the parking lot. “We can’t swim in it, despite how much you seem to love going swimming in strange water sources,” he says, and then glances over his shoulder with a frown when Bucky doesn’t laugh. “It’s too bad,” he continues, “because the water is really warm, but there’s a bunch of creatures that live in it. We’ll complete destroy their habitat.”

Bucky focuses on his feet as he walks. He’s so tired that the world seems to waver around him, and his skin feels hot and itchy. His heart rate is a little slower now, but it’s still too high.

“I’ll warn you, though,” Steve says. “It does smell pretty bad. It’s the sulphur content, but it’s nothing harmful to breathe in. You actually get pretty used to it, after a while.”

He stops talking, and Bucky belatedly realizes he’s waiting for a response.

“How long does it take to get used to the smell?” Bucky asks. His voice is flat and dull, and Steve frowns again.

“Probably longer than we’ll be there,” he admits, "but it’s pretty cool anyway.”

They walk in silence for a while longer. Bucky can see the tension in Steve’s shoulders, and he feels terrible. He’s ruining Steve’s day, but his brain feels so fried and overtired that even thinking about making conversation feels impossible.

Finally, he forces his scattered thoughts into order. “Are there any geysers around here?” Bucky asks. His voice is still flat and a little hoarse, but at least it’s something. “Like that one that goes off every hour or something?”

“No,” Steve says, and launches into a long, in-depth explanation of the geographical requirements for geysers to form. He visibly perks up at Bucky’s attempt at conversation, though, so Bucky can sink back into his misery spiral and let Steve do most of the talking.

They make it to the hot spring quickly. As promised, it’s quite a peaceful place. On a good day, Bucky would have loved to sit by the edge and let Steve point out all the interesting facts about it, but today he’s so tired and shaky that he just sits there and stares, letting Steve’s voice wash over him.

They eat the lunch that Steve brought. Bucky doesn’t taste it. He stares at the ground in front of him and tries to relax his tense muscles.

Bucky is putting his backpack back on when Steve speaks up.

“I’ll take you back down to your car,” he says, and Bucky looks up and frowns. It’s barely even noon. They have plenty of time to do something else, and usually Bucky doesn’t leave until the very last minute.

“It’s pretty early,” Bucky says carefully, heart sinking. “We could go see something else around here.”

“No, it’s okay,” Steve says. He’s avoiding Bucky’s eyes. “I’ll take you back down.”

He keeps packing up, still not looking at Bucky.

“Steve,” Bucky says desperately, stepping forward so that Steve finally looks up at him. “Hey. I’m – I’m not… I’m having a good time. This isn’t anything to do with you, okay? I’m just grumpy today. Didn’t sleep well. Feel pretty shitty.”

Steve sighs and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to drag yourself up here, though. I really am fine on my own, Buck, you don’t have to drive all the way out here if you’re not feeling well.”

“I want to,” Bucky insists. “I like it up here, with you.”

Steve hesitates. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, and sighs again. “So you don’t want to go back now?”

“No,” Bucky says desperately. That’s the opposite of what he wants to do, but he’ll understand if Steve sends him back anyway. Bucky knows he’s miserable company right now, and it’s not fair to Steve.

“Why don’t we just go back to my place for the rest of the afternoon,” Steve suggests.

“Sure,” Bucky agrees, because he’ll take anything that isn’t going back down to his car at this point.

It’s not too far before they’re back at Steve’s cabin. Steve disappears inside for a while, and Bucky sits on his porch steps and stares out over the mountains.

Steve reappears with two glasses of lemonade. He sits down next to Bucky and hands one over.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbles. The lemonade is tasty and refreshing, especially after their morning hike.

They sit in silence for a long time, looking out over the mountains. Bucky sips his lemonade and ends up feeling a little calmer than he’s felt in a while.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve finally asks.

“Not really,” Bucky says. “Thanks, though.”

Steve nods, and they sit quietly for a while longer.

“How do you get lemonade all the way up there?” Bucky finally asks. “Do you hike it all the way up here?”

“Yup,” Steve says. “Kinda heavy, but it’s worth it.”

 

After a while, Steve gets up and walks a few steps down to the grass in front of the porch. He lies down on his back, spreading his arms out to the side.

“C’mere,” he says, patting the ground beside him.

“Why?” Bucky asks. Steve shrugs, the grass moving under his shoulders. Bucky gets up and joins him, lying down a foot away.

“Sometimes I try and nap here,” Steve mumbles, sounding half-asleep already. “But I’m always too paranoid about getting eaten by a wolf or something.”

“I’ll keep an eye open,” Bucky mumbles back, which is a lie because he’s already drifting off.

“Eh,” Steve says dismissively, and that’s the last thing Bucky hears for a while.

 

He wakes up with the feeling of the sun on his face, and the grass cool against his skin.

Bucky sits up blearily, pushing his hair out of his face. Steve is now sitting on the porch in one of the chairs, reading a book.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks. “How long was I out?”

“Little under two hours,” Steve replies. “Seemed like you needed it.”

Bucky still feels groggy, but overall he feels significantly better than he did earlier. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and carefully climbs to his feet.

They sit around for a while longer, and then head back down to Bucky’s car. Bucky tells Steve, just like he always does, that he can make it back down to his car just fine on his own. Steve, like always, insists on accompanying him.

Bucky tosses his backpack in the trunk and shuts it. “Thanks for today,” he says. “I know I acted kind of shitty, so thanks for putting up with me.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Bucky, you were fine. I don’t mind. You don’t have to try and act happy all the time around me. God knows I’m not a constant ray of sunshine.”

“Still,” Bucky says as he gets into his car. “I’ll be back to normal next week.”

Steve shakes his head at him and heads back into the woods.

 

Sure enough, Bucky is in much better mood the next Saturday. He’s gotten a lot more sleep, his work week hadn’t been terrible, and he’s excited to see Steve. He’d kind of forgotten what it felt like to have someone in his life that he actually wants to see, and enjoys spending time with. That’s pretty pathetic, and sad, but whatever. He grabs his backpack, throws on his hiking clothes on, and heads out the door.

Hell, he even sings along to the radio as he drives. It’s an unusually good mood.

Despite Bucky making good time and getting there early, Steve is already there when he arrives. He’s sitting on the ground with his back against a tree, eating a granola bar as Bucky drives up.

“Hey!” Bucky calls as he gets out. “Why are you here so early?”

“I was doing some work this morning!” Steve shouts back, getting to his feet. He monitors the behaviour of a lot of wildlife in the park, through various means that Bucky can never keep track of. “I was down this way anyway.”

Bucky goes around to the trunk and grabs his backpack. It’s a little chilly, so he opens his backpack and pulls out his sweater to throw on. As he does, his heart sinks as he realizes he forgot to fill up his water bottle. It has a little bit left in it from last week, but Steve’s going to grumble at him if he realizes Bucky forgot. Then he’s going to sacrifice his own water intake to make sure Bucky drinks enough.

Bucky shoves his water bottle back into his bag and shuts the trunk. Steve won’t notice if he just doesn’t say anything. Besides, Bucky’s handled a lot worse conditions on a lot less water than this.

“Do you have more work to do?” Bucky asks as he locks his car and walks over to Steve. “I can just hang out.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve says. “I was just double-checking a few things. You ready for our toughest hike yet?”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “How tough are we talking?”

Steve shrugs. “Well, I don’t actually think it’s that tough, but then again, pretty much all I do all day is hike around. We can always turn back or cut it short if it’s too tough for you.”

Bucky scoffs. “Steve,” he says, “it’s not going to be too tough for me.”

 

Four hours later, Bucky is deeply regretting that statement.

The chilly morning has quickly turned into a roasting hot day. Normally this wouldn’t be as much of a problem, thanks to the shade of the forest, but they moved above most of the treeline a while ago. Bucky wouldn’t even call this a hike, at this point. It’s more of a scramble.

“You good?” Steve calls as Bucky slips on the loose rocks. Again.

“Yeah!” Bucky shouts back. “View’s beautiful up here!”

It really is. They have an even more spectacular view of the surrounding mountains up here than they do at Steve’s cabin. This particular route is so far beyond a normal tourist’s reach that they haven’t seen anyone all day.

The problem, though, is that Bucky is soaked in sweat. He put some sunscreen on this morning, so he’s not too worried about burning, but he feels a little like he’s being roasted alive.

“Hey,” he calls, “can we take a break?”

Steve immediately heads over to a small cluster of rocks and takes his backpack off. Bucky follows suit, flopping down on a rock and groaning as he lets his sweaty backpack drop onto the rock. His sweat-soaked shirt immediately cools against his skin.

Bucky takes his water bottle out and looks at it miserably. He drained the last of his water an hour ago.

“Oh, are you all out?” Steve asks, frowning. Bucky takes a moment to be irritated by the fact that Steve is only mildly sweaty, and in fact looks even healthier and more attractive than he normally does in the bright sunlight. “Here,” Steve says, offering out his water bottle. “Have the rest of mine.”

“I can’t take your water,” Bucky protests, still panting a little from the exertion. “You need it just as much as I do.”

“I always carry a spare bottle,” Steve says, and pulls another full water bottle out of his bag. “I have plenty.”

Bucky eyes both bottles, but it looks like Steve really does have enough to share. Bucky gratefully accepts the bottle and quickly chugs down most of it.

“Jesus,” he mutters when he finishes it. “It’s so hot.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, looking around and frowning a little. “Why don’t we start heading back down? It’s usually best not to push your luck with this much sun exposure.”

Bucky wants to protest, but he’s exhausted already and they still have to climb all the way back down. He takes another drink of water and then nods.

“Are you doing alright?” Steve asks, frowning at him now. “Are you wearing sunscreen?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You look a little pink, that’s all,” Steve says. “Here, put on a little more sunscreen.”

He hands Bucky a tube of sunscreen, and Bucky dutifully applies it, even though he thinks it’s not going to help much at this point.

“Alright,” Bucky says, wincing as he has to put his backpack back on his sweaty back. “Let’s get going.”

By the time they make it back down the treeline and blessed shade, Bucky’s feeling a little lightheaded. He doesn’t say anything about it, because it’s probably his own fault for not drinking enough water, and besides, it’s a little cooler down in the forest. He’s got a headache, too, so he pulls out Steve’s water bottle and drains the rest of that, too. He’s probably a little dehydrated.

They keep hiking. Bucky asks Steve about the wildlife he’s been tracking this week, and Steve is happily explaining it in great detail when the world suddenly seems to spin. Bucky stops dead, reaching out for a nearby tree for support.

Steve hears him stop and turns around, frowning. “Bucky?” he says, and Bucky shakes his head.

“I’m okay,” he says, and tries to take a deep breath and step forward. Instead, the world spins again and his legs suddenly go weak underneath him.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve says, scrambling back up the hill towards him. Bucky feels Steve grab his arms, but he’s too dizzy to focus on anything. “Sit down.”

Bucky sits, because his legs feel too weak to stand. Steve carefully guides him down onto the ground and props him up against a tree.

“I’m okay,” Bucky mumbles again, making himself take a few deep breaths. He feels a little better now that he’s sitting down.

“No, you’re not,” Steve says sharply. “Dizzy? Lightheaded?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles, because he feels too shitty to lie right now. “Seriously, Steve, I just need a second. I’ll be fine.”

Steve’s already pulling his spare water bottle out of his backpack. It’s still mostly full. “Drink this.”

“I can’t take your other water bottle,” Bucky protests.

Steve glares at him. “I think you’re getting heat exhaustion, Bucky. I can’t risk you getting heat stroke. I’ve got half a mind to go get my radio right now and – “

“Steve!” Bucky interrupts. “No! Jesus, I’m fine. Give me the water.”

Steve hands over the bottle, and Bucky takes a few sips. His stomach turns a little as he does so, but he resolutely ignores it. He leans his head back against the tree and takes some more deep breaths, ignoring Steve staring at him.

“Do you feel weak?” Steve asks as he continues his interrogation. “Nauseous? Is your heart racing?”

“A little,” Bucky admits. “But we also just climbed a mountain, Steve, I’d be surprised if I wasn’t a little weak. I’m not getting heat stroke. Believe me when I tell you that I’ve been in much worse conditions than this.”

“I’m not taking that risk,” Steve says sharply. “Heat stroke is incredibly dangerous, we can’t risk this getting to that level. “

Bucky raises a sweaty eyebrow at him. “Steve, you take risks all the time. You live alone on the side of a mountain and constantly hike dangerous trails alone.”

Steve is not impressed. “That’s my own life,” he says. “I’m not taking chances with yours. Drink the water.”

“Bossy,” Bucky mutters, and smiles a little when Steve’s glare intensifies. “Alright, I’m drinking, I’m drinking.”

Bucky manages to get some more water down, and they sit for a while longer. The sweat is finally starting to cool on Bucky’s skin now that he’s out of the sun, and he feels a little more steady.

“We can keep going,” Bucky says finally, and Steve scrutinizes him carefully.

“New plan,” Steve says. “We’re going back to the cabin until I’m confident you’re 100% better.”

Bucky groans. “Steve, I’m fine.”

 “You really want to get helicoptered out of here?” Steve asks. “Cause I’ll do it. I’ll call the helicopter.”

“Fine,” Bucky mutters. “Cabin it is.”

Steve helps him up, slowly, and then keeps his arms on Bucky’s shoulders as Bucky stands there for a minute, making sure he’s not going to pass out. Normally Bucky would be ecstatic that Steve’s touching him, but he still feels a little sick and kind of just wants to lie down.

“You good?” Steve asks, and Bucky nods. “Okay. We’re going to go really slowly. It’s not that far from here, but you tell me if you need a break, or if you feel dizzy again. Alright?”

“Alright,” Bucky agrees, and they start off.

They’re moving at what must feel like a snail’s pace to Steve, but Bucky doesn’t particularly want to try and go faster. He’s still lightheaded, and his stomach is churning now. Steve’s cold, dark cabin is starting to sound more and more appealing.

Steve hovers right next to him as they walk. He’s completely stopped his normal stream of wildlife and plant facts, and Bucky can feel Steve staring at him as they walk.

They start to reach part of the forest that Bucky recognizes, which means they must be fairly close to Steve’s cabin. But his head is really starting to spin again, and his stomach has started lurching uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” Bucky mumbles abruptly. “Can we – I gotta stop.”

“Okay,” Steve says quickly. “Sit down, sit down.”

Steve helps him sit down on a fallen tree. Bucky feels pretty terrible now, and he drops his head in his hands and grinds his teeth together.

“Have some more water,” Steve says. Bucky can hear him opening up the water bottle again.

Bucky carefully shakes his head.

“Come on,” Steve says urgently. “You need to stay as hydrated as possible.”

“Feel sick,” Bucky manages to say through his clenched teeth, and Steve sighs.

Bucky sits there and lets his head pound and his stomach swirl. He can hear Steve rummaging around in his backpack, but he can’t even lift his head to see what Steve’s doing.

Bucky’s stomach lurches again, and he gags harshly. He hears Steve swear under his breath, and then he feels Steve’s hand start rubbing his back gently.

Bucky heaves again and promptly throws up all of the water he made himself drink. Steve keeps rubbing circles into his back until Bucky can finally catch a breath again.

“Sorry,” Bucky manages to gasp out.

“Don’t apologize!” Steve says. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have picked today to do this hike, I should have factored in the sun exposure when I looked at the temperature – “

“I didn’t bring enough water,” Bucky says hoarsely. “Plus, I think the elevation might be messing with me a little. I’m normally a little tougher than this.”

He gasps suddenly as something cool and damp presses against the back of his neck. Steve must have poured water on a spare shirt. It feels amazing against Bucky’s overheated skin.

“Heat exhaustion can get you when you least expect it,” Steve says. “We see it a lot out here. It’s just really important to catch it before it turns into heat stroke.”

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky repeats. He really does feel a little better now, and the cool cloth on his neck is helping even more.

They sit for a while longer. Bucky manages to drink another few sips of water, and then gets shakily to his feet.

“I’m good,” he announces. “We can keep going.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks doubtfully. “I don’t want you passing out and cracking your head open.”

“I’ll tell you if I get dizzy again,” Bucky says, and they start off again. They go even slower this time, and Steve is clearly intended on catching Bucky the minute he starts to look even the slightest bit unsteady.

Bucky could cry when Steve’s cabin finally comes into sight. He’s desperately looking forward to lying down.

Despite the heat outside, Steve’s cabin is much cooler inside. Bucky groans in relief and immediately stumbles towards the couch.

“Nope,” Steve says, and tugs at his arm. “Shower first.”

“Steve!” Bucky whines. “Come on.”

“We have to get your temperature down,” Steve says in his best no-nonsense voice. He carefully drags Bucky into the tiny washroom. “Don’t turn the temperature to warm, okay? You’re going to take a cool shower, but make sure that it’s not cold. You – actually, you know what, I’ll just do it.”

“I think I can figure out how to take a cool shower,” Bucky says, but his voice is drowned out by Steve turning on the shower and carefully fiddling with the temperature.

When it’s finally to Steve’s satisfaction, he turns back to Bucky.

“Don’t try to keep standing up,” Steve says firmly. “I’d feel better if you sat down, I don’t want you passing out or getting dizzy. Don’t lock the door, either.”

“Who would have guessed that a little heat exhaustion would make you this bossy,” Bucky says with as much of a smirk as he can muster up when he still feels pretty shitty.

“Who would’ve thought a little heat exhaustion would make me this anxious,” Steve murmurs in response, and shoves a towel from under the sink at Bucky. “Shower. I’ll get you some new clothes.”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky mutters as Steve puts a pile of clothing on the counter and leaves. Bucky shuts the door behind him and doesn’t lock it.

It takes him a while to get his sweaty, gross clothes off, because he’s pretty shaky. He’s finally able to stumble under the blessedly cool water.

He does end up sitting on the floor of the shower, because standing is a little too tricky. He sits there and lets the water cool down his fevered skin.

Steve eventually knocks on the door. “Bucky?” he calls, sounding anxious. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Bucky calls back. “I’m getting out.”

He reluctantly reaches up and turns the water off, and then holds onto the wall for support. He’s exhausted.

He carefully gets dressed in the clothes Steve left for him, and then stumbles out into the hallway.

“I probably used up all of your water,” Bucky says as Steve hurries around the corner from the kitchen.

“Whatever,” Steve says dismissively, and just then Bucky’s head spins again and he has to reach for the wall. Steve grabs his arms and gently pulls him into the bedroom.

Bucky doesn’t even have the energy to make a joke about Steve trying to get him into bed. He just flops down on the bed and lets Steve arrange the pillows around him.

“Here,” Steve says, handing him what looks like some kind of off-brand sports drink. “You have to drink as much of this as you can.”

Bucky makes a face, because he still feels a little nauseous, but he takes the drink from Steve anyway. He lies back on the pillows and carefully takes a few sips, looking around the room as he does so.

Steve’s bedroom is pretty small and plain, just like the rest of his cabin. A small closet in one corner, the bed Bucky’s lying on, which can’t be bigger than a double, and a small table with some books and maps stacked on top of it.

There’s really not much to look at, so Bucky lies there and drinks his drink. He still doesn’t feel great, but he’s definitely a lot better than before.

Steve pokes his head into the room a few minutes later, looking worried. “How are you feeling?” he asks. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m good for now,” Bucky says. “Thanks.”

Steve looks pointedly at the sports drink that Bucky’s barely touched. “Keep drinking.”

Bucky makes a face at him, but does as he’s told. He can hear Steve moving around in the cabin, but the bedroom is dark and cool and Bucky can feel himself drifting off into sleep. He manages to screw the lid of the bottle back on just before he starts to doze.

 

When he wakes up again, he can immediately tell that the sun is a lot lower in the sky.

“Steve!” he calls, and then winces when he hears Steve rush down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Bucky?” Steve says frantically. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, sorry,” Bucky says. “But I should get going, right? I don’t want to hike down in the dark.”

Steve stares at him. “Bucky, are you serious? You can’t hike down today.”

Bucky stares back. “Why not?”

“Because you still have heat exhaustion! You don’t want to risk making it worse. Besides, you can barely walk, do you really want to try and drive all the way home?”

He had a point. “Fine,” Bucky reluctantly concedes. “But at least let me sleep on your couch.”

“No!” Steve says, sounding horrified. “You’re gonna stay right where you are.”

“Steve –“

“My house, my rules,” Steve says firmly, and then walks back out of the room. “Are you hungry?” he asks from the kitchen.

Bucky makes a face. “No, thanks.”

Steve pokes his head back in. “You have to eat something at some point.”

“Later,” Bucky says, and Steve disappears again.

There are a few books stacked up on the nightstand that Bucky could probably read, but he still feels pretty dizzy. He takes another few gulps of the sports drink and then flops back down on the pillows.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep again, but the room is dark when he opens his eyes. He feels a lot better than before. Still dizzy, but better. He tries to get up, but his head swims.

He hears Steve move quietly down the hallway, and then the door creaks open slightly.

“I’m awake,” Bucky says, and Steve flicks the light on.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, still looking worried.

“Much better,” Bucky says. It’s not entirely a lie. “But I’d feel even better if you let me sleep on your couch.”

Steve scowls at him. “Not happening. I can sleep on the couch. I’m used to camping in a tent most of the time, so the couch is pretty nice compared to that. You wanna try eating something? I can just make you some toast or something."

“That sounds good.”

Steve leaves the room and comes back a few minutes later with some toast. Bucky hauls himself upright and takes a few tentative bites when Steve hands him the plate, and then waits to see if his stomach accepts it.

“I’m gonna get crumbs in your bed,” Bucky warns.

Steve shrugs. “Worse things have happened.” He gets up and leaves the room again while Bucky eats, and then comes back with a laptop tucked under his arm.

“Don’t tell me you get internet out here,” Bucky says through a mouthful of toast, and Steve laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope,” he says. “I honestly forgot that I even had this laptop up here. It’s not good for much because my power goes down so often, but I charge it up sometimes when I can. I’ve got a solar powered charger for it too. No internet, but I’ve got some movies saved onto it. I thought you might want to watch one, rather than just lie there and stare at the wall.”

“Only if you’re going to watch it with me,” Bucky says, and so Steve sits down on the other side of the bed and turns the laptop on.

“Any movie preferences?” he asks.

“What’ve you got?” Bucky asks, abandoning his toast to lean over and look at the screen. Steve turns the computer towards him and scrolls through the choices. Bucky picks some random action movie and lies back.

Steve sets the laptop on the bed between them and then sits awkwardly upright on the bed, one of his legs still hanging off the side. Bucky, who’s now comfortably leaning back on the pillows again, glances over at him but doesn’t say anything. He’s already picked up on the fact that Steve is a pretty-closed off person. He’s not going to rush Steve into anything. He can wait.

Sure enough, as the movie progresses, Steve finally swings his legs up onto the bed and sits back against the wall, much closer to Bucky. As the movie continues, he gradually sinks lower and lower onto the bed until he’s sprawled out just like Bucky is.

The movie is actually pretty good, and Bucky gets so distracted by it that he doesn’t even notice Steve falling asleep beside him until he looks over.

Steve is curled up on the bed with his head resting on the pillows, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and steady. Bucky carefully gets up and closes the laptop, setting it on the nightstand and then turning off the light in the room. He takes the blanket and gently drapes it over Steve before lying down himself. He’s still feeling a little overheated, so he can do without the blanket for now.

He falls asleep quickly, listening to the sound of Steve breathing beside him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all your lovely comments!!!


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky wakes up the next morning and finds himself the subject of extremely aggressive cuddling.

He wakes up slowly, the sound of birds chirping outside and the relative silence of the woods drifting in through the window. He feels warm and comfortable, and has half a mind to just fall asleep again.

That is, until he realizes just how much of him Steve is touching.

Bucky opens his eyes to see that Steve, at some point during the night, has latched onto Bucky like an octopus. His legs are entwined with Bucky’s, his arms are wrapped around Bucky’s waist, and his face is pressed into Bucky’s side.

Bucky smiles down at him and holds himself very still. He actually knows very little about Steve’s past, but he can’t imagine the guy’s been doing much cuddling when he lives alone on the side of a mountain. It seems like Steve moved up here to be away from people, but Bucky gets the feeling he doesn’t really like being alone all that much.

Besides, it feels good to be held like this. Steve’s bed is warm, and his arms around Bucky’s waist are comforting. Bucky closes his eyes again and lets himself drift for a while.

He wakes up again when Steve shifts slightly, and then Bucky feels him jerk awake.

Bucky cracks an eye open and grins at him. Steve sits bolt upright and scrambles away from Bucky.

“Woah,” Bucky says, laughing a little. “Steve, it’s okay.”

“Oh my god,” Steve says in a rush. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know how that happened – “

“It’s fine,” Bucky says, laughing. “Steve, seriously, I don’t mind.”

Steve still looks panicked. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky repeated.

Steve sighed and ran a hand through his hair. All that accomplished was that it made his hair stick up even more. “Are you feeling okay? Any better?”

“Much better,” Bucky confirmed. “I feel fine.”

Steve visibly relaxes a little. “Good. I was worried. If you’re feeling up to it, we should try and hike down while it’s still a little cooler. You shouldn’t be out in the sun or get too overheated for at least a week.”

Bucky starts to get up, and is pleased to find that his head doesn’t spin at all.

They eat breakfast quickly, get ready to go, and head out. Steve sets what feels like an agonizingly slow pace, but every time Bucky tries to complain Steve glares at him.

Finally, they make it down to the parking lot.

“You’re sure you’re good to drive?” Steve asks as Bucky puts his stuff back in his car.

“Yes,” Bucky says. “I wouldn’t drive if I wasn’t sure. I really do feel fine.”

Steve visibly relaxes. “Good. Were you planning on coming up next weekend?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Don’t,” Steve says. Bucky stares at him, confused and a little hurt, and Steve’s eyes widen. “No, I didn’t mean – “ he says quickly. “Just – you shouldn’t be hiking for at least a week, just to be safe. Obviously I want you to come back next weekend, but not at the expense of your health.”

Bucky relaxes a little. “Alright, alright. Weekend after next?”

“Sure,” Steve agrees, and Bucky gets in his car and heads back to the city.

 

He stays home the next weekend, like he promised Steve, and does nothing but lie on the couch and watch Netflix all day. By the end of the weekend, he’s restless and moody, and just wants to be back up in the mountains with Steve. He waits impatiently all the rest of that week, until the morning finally comes when he can get in his car and start driving.

It pours rain all the way up to the mountains, and Bucky is glad he packed his rain jacket. He also picked up a pair of cheap rain pants the day before, after checking the weather forecast.

Although he’s a little later than he normally is, there are no other cars in the parking lot when he pulls up. It takes him a minute to see Steve through the pouring rain. He’s standing under a tree with the hood of his coat pulled up, and some kind of heavy duty rain cover over his backpack.

“Hey!” Steve calls as he walks up to Bucky’s car. “You made it!”

“It’s just a little rain,” Bucky says, pulling out his backpack and strapping it on. “We’re still good to hike, right?”

“Should be,” Steve says. “I’ve been keeping an eye on the weather. We’ll be fine for now, but if it gets worse we might have to make some changes.”

“Sounds good,” Bucky tells him, and they set off.

It’s not their best hike. The continuous rain has soaked the ground, and turned the paths to mud. Steve is faring a little better in his sturdy boots, but Bucky keeps slipping and landing right in the mud. He’s fine, the most injuries he sustains are a few minor scratches, but the wet mud soon coats his jacket, pants, and boots. It’s cold, and he finds himself getting chilled after they’ve only been out there for about an hour.

The rain is coming down hard enough that Bucky can’t even look around and appreciate the forest around them. He can barely lift his face without water pouring in through his hood and running down his neck.

They push on for another hour, and then Steve stops.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks, coming up to stand next to him. They have to stand close together to even be heard.

Steve is frowning, standing there staring off into space. He starts moving again suddenly, and Bucky scrambles to catch up with him.

Soon, Bucky hears what Steve must have been listening to. What he thought was just the sound of the rain is actually one of the rivers, much louder than Bucky remembers it being.

They turn a corner and Bucky gasps at the size of the river. It’s probably twice the size of the last time they were here, and moving fast.

“We should turn back,” Steve shouts over the noise of the water. “I’m worried about flooding.”

“Like back to my car?” Bucky asks.

“No, back to my cabin,” Steve says. “If the rivers are already starting to look like this up here, it’s gonna get even worse down below. I have to pass the message on. Do you mind?”

“No, no, of course not,” Bucky shouts, and they head back.

Steve moves quickly, and Bucky has to scramble to keep up. They make it back to Steve’s cabin in what must be record time.

They stumble inside, Steve pulling the door shut behind him. The sudden absence of rain is startling, and Bucky stands there for a minute just trying to get his bearings.

Steve is already stripping off his rain gear. “Here,” he says, motioning to a few hooks next to the door. “You can hang your stuff up to dry here, I’ll move the mat underneath it.”

Bucky does so, but even with his raingear off, his clothing underneath is still soaked from all the water that ran down through his hood and up his pant legs when he fell.

Steve passes him a towel and a stack of his clothes, and Bucky heads to the washroom to change. He tries to turn the light on when he goes in, but nothing happens. The power must be out.

While he’s getting changed, he hears Steve talking into a radio out in the main room. It sounds like he’s talking to them about the rain and the potential flooding, but the response on the other end is so garbled that Bucky can’t make out what it’s saying.

When Bucky emerges again, Steve had already changed into dry clothes. He’s sitting on the couch, looking worried.

“What’s up?” Bucky asks. “Everything okay?”

“Bad news,” Steve says carefully. “Apparently the flooding down below is getting way worse, and the rain isn’t supposed to let up until at least Monday, if that. The rivers are already starting to spill over, and there’s no way it’s safe to get you back down to your car. Even if we could, that bridge you have to drive over on your way in is already in danger of getting washed out right now. They’re already closing down the roads.”

“Oh, shit,” Bucky says. “Okay. So I’m stuck here then?”

“Yeah,” Steve says miserably. “I’m so sorry, Bucky, I shouldn’t have asked you to come up here with the weather this bad – “

Bucky sits down on the couch next to Steve. “Hey, no, it’s okay,” he says. “Neither of us realized it was going to get this bad. It’s fine, Steve.”

Steve has his face in his hands. “You probably won’t make it to work on Monday,” Steve mumbles. “You’ll be lucky to make it for Tuesday.”

Bucky shrugs. “It happens. Nothing I can do about it now. Besides, there’s nothing I was doing at work that’s crucial. They’ll be fine without me.”

“Still,” Steve says into his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky doesn’t know how else to convince Steve that he really is fine with this, without getting too sappy. Saying something like “I’m happiest when I’m up here with you” might be pushing the limits of what Steve can handle right now.

“I think your power’s out,” he says instead, and Steve sighs.

“Yeah, it probably is. It’ll be fine, I’ve got a backup generator but that’s only for use in emergencies. The water filtration isn’t powered by anything, so that should be fine.”

“You’ve got food in the fridge,” Bucky reminds him.

Steve shrugs again, but gets up and heads over to it. “Not much in here, really,” he says, peering through the door. "Just some fruit and stuff that I really just keep in here so the smell doesn’t attract animals or bugs. I’ve got enough non-perishable stuff to last us for quite a while.”

“I’m not worried,” Bucky says truthfully. Steve is excellent at being prepared for pretty much anything, so Bucky has no doubt that he’s prepared for an extended amount of time trapped in this cabin.

To his surprise, Steve reaches for his rain jacket and rain pants and starts putting them back on.

“I doubt there were any other tourists out today,” Steve explains as he gets ready, “but I have to go make sure. There was no one in the parking lot where we met, but there’s another, smaller lot a little ways down. I’m just going to go check the main trails and lookout points and make sure no one else is trapped out here.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Bucky asks.

Steve shakes his head, pulling his hood over his ears and cinching it up. “I’ll be faster on my own. If I’m not back by morning, though, can you use my radio to ask someone to come look for me?”

Bucky stares at him. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

“I’m not,” Steve says as he pulls on his boots. “Don’t come looking for me yourself, you’ll just put yourself in danger too. If you get hungry, feel free to eat whatever you find. There’s lanterns and flashlights in that box under the coffee table, and blankets in the bedroom closet.”

With that, he opens the door again. The wind and rain immediately rush in, and Steve hurriedly steps outside and pulls it shut behind him.

Bucky is left sitting on the couch in the dark cabin, alone. He sits there for a few minutes trying to not to panic about Steve being out in this storm alone, and finally gets up. He finds the box with the lanterns, and pulls a few out. Some of them are battery powered, so he turns those on and puts them around the cabin. Then he goes to look for some blankets, because he’s still chilled from being out in the rain and Steve’s cabin is not that warm.

Bucky feels a little weird going through Steve’s closet, but Steve told him he could. It turns out that there isn’t really much in there. Some neatly folded and hung clothes, and then a stack of blankets.

He takes all of them and heads back out to the living room, where he proceeds to make himself a little blanket nest on the couch. He allows one arm out of his blanket nest to hold a random book he grabbed from Steve's bookshelf, and that’s it.

He warms up quickly, but he can’t focus on the book at all. The storm doesn’t seem to have gotten much worse, but it was so bad already that thinking about it doesn’t calm Bucky at all. He knows Steve’s probably going to be gone for quite some time, but there’s no way he’s going to relax before he’s back.

An hour passes, and then another. Bucky can’t tell how dark it’s getting outside, because it was dark enough already with the storm, so he has nothing to do but sit there and try and read.

A few more hours pass, and Bucky ends up just sitting there staring at the door.

Finally, he hears footsteps on the porch and the door flies open. Steve stumbles in, absolutely soaked in water.

“Thank fuck,” Bucky says, scrambling out of his blanket nest as Steve shuts the door behind him. “I was getting worried.”

“Sorry,” Steve gasps out. He’s trembling, and when he turns to look at Bucky his lips are nearly blue. “Had to make sure no one was out here.”

“I know, I know,” Bucky says. “Come on, get your coat off, you look frozen.”

Steve struggles with the zipper, his hands shaking, so Bucky finally steps forward and does it for him. They finally get Steve out of all his raingear, leaving him shivering in the middle of the room.

“Maybe you should take a hot shower or something?” Bucky suggests as he hangs Steve’s coat.

Steve shakes his head. “Water heater only works if the power’s on,” he says through gritted teeth, still shivering. “I’m just gonna get changed.”

He stumbles into the bedroom while Bucky finishes hanging up the rest of his raingear. When he comes back out a few minutes later wearing dry clothes, he doesn’t look much warmer.

“Come here,” Bucky orders, and Steve stumbles obediently over to sit on the couch. Bucky quickly grabs his pile of blankets and tosses them on top of Steve, who curls up miserably underneath them.

“You want something to eat?” Bucky asks. “You have to be hungry.”

“Sure,” Steve mumbles, and Bucky starts looking through the kitchen cupboards. There’s some canned food, but nothing that would be really appetizing when it’s cold.

“Do we have any way of heating these up?” Bucky asks.

Steve, still bundled up in the blankets, shakes his head. “Not unless I turn on the emergency generator. I’ve got a little camp stove that doesn’t need power, but it’s not safe to use it in here and there’s no way we can go outside.”

“Right.” Bucky stands with his hands on his hips, surveying the contents of the cupboards. “Guess it’s gonna be cold chili, then.”

“There’s some pepper in the cupboard to your right,” Steve mumbles. “Don’t bother with dishes, though, cleaning them in cold water is pretty terrible. We can eat out of the cans.”

Bucky opens up two cans and grabs two spoons, handing one set to Steve. He sits down on the other side of the couch from Steve, and starts to eat.

It’s actually not terrible. It’d be way better if it were hot, but Bucky is so hungry by this point that he doesn’t really care anymore.

Even when they finish eating, Steve’s still shivering. Bucky takes his can of chili away and Steve curls up miserably under the blankets again.

“Do you have anything else for heating?” Bucky asks anxiously. “Like any of those little handwarmer things?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll be fine,” he gasps out. “Should’ve worn more layers when I went out there. My mistake.”

Bucky cleans up their dinner as best he can, and by the time he’s done, Steve is still shivering.

“Alright, get up,” Bucky says finally.

Steve looks up at him. “What?” he says.

“Come on, up,” Bucky repeats, and tugs on Steve’s arm through the blankets. “Bring all those with you.”

Steve obediently gets up, keeping as many blankets wrapped around himself as possible, and lets Bucky push him down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Bucky – “ Steve tries to protest, but Bucky just pushes him down onto the bed and pulls the blankets out of the way.

Once Steve is lying on the bed, Bucky pulls the rest of the blankets back over him.

“Better?” Bucky asks.

“A little,” Steve mumbles.

Bucky looks around the room. “Does your laptop have any power on it?”

“I think so,” Steve says. “I charged it up a few days ago.”

Bucky finds it on the table in the corner, and brings it back over to the bed. He turns it on and opens up the folder where Steve has all his movies saved. “Any preferences?” Bucky asks, and Steve shakes his head.

Bucky picks a random comedy and turns the volume up as high as it’ll go. The rain outside pounds on the roof of the cabin and the windows, loud enough that Bucky has some fears about the roof caving in.

He put the laptop between them and sits back against the wall. Steve is still curled up and shaking, the blankets pulled all the way over his nose.

They watch the movie quietly for a while. Steve’s still shivering hard enough for Bucky to feel it, and finally Bucky sighs and gets up.

“Let me know if this is too much,” he warns Steve, and tugs the blankets back.

“What – “ Steve starts to say, and then Bucky crawls under the covers with him. He shifts around until he’s pressed right up against Steve, lying on his back with his shoulder against Steve’s chest. He tugs the blankets back over them and resettles the laptop on his lap.

“Bucky…” Steve mumbles. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Steve, believe me when I tell you I don’t mind,” Bucky says. He’s warm and cozy now, even with Steve shivering beside him. “But if it’s too much, I can get out.”

“No,” Steve mumbles, and keeps shivering. Bucky restarts the movie, and carefully lies still and waits.

Sure enough, after a few minutes, Steve shifts over again, moving a little closer to Bucky. After a few minutes more, his arms carefully encircle Bucky’s waist.

“Your hands are freezing,” Bucky tells him.

“Sorry,” Steve says, and starts to pull back. Bucky grabs his arms and stops him.

“I’m kidding,” he tells Steve, and Steve relaxes.

By the time the movie’s wrapping up, Steve is asleep with his face pressed into Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky carefully puts the laptop on the nightstand and lies down, quickly falling asleep too.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for your lovely comments!!!! :D
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: discussions about the deaths of family members and friends. a pet death is mentioned but it's not described in ANY detail

Bucky isn’t sure what wakes him up, a while later. It’s still raining outside, and the wind is howling.

Bucky blinks a few times and looks around, then jumps a little. Steve’s face is inches from his, with his arms still wrapped around Bucky’s waist and chest.

Steve’s eyes are open, and he’s blinking slowly at Bucky.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks out. “You okay?”

Steve nods. There’s barely a few inches between them, and even though Bucky’s still half-asleep, this feels like the right thing to do.

Bucky slowly moves forward, giving Steve plenty of time to move away if he wants, and kisses him.

It feels amazing, but he does it gently because he needs to see how Steve reacts. Sure enough, he feels Steve freeze for a moment.

But then Bucky feels him relax, and suddenly Steve’s rolling on top of him.

Bucky laughs as Steve kisses him again. “Well, alright then,” Bucky says, and Steve laughs too and presses down further against him. Bucky groans and rakes his hands down Steve’s back as Steve grinds down.

Within a few minutes, it’s too hot under the flannel blankets and sheets. Bucky kicks them off and tugs impatiently at Steve’s shirt.

“Alright, alright,” Steve says, smiling, and pulls it off. Bucky props himself up on his elbows and takes a moment to just look and admire.

“Can’t believe you’ve been hiding this under all that flannel,” Bucky says, and Steve bursts out laughing.

They don’t do much more than some quick handjobs. Bucky would do more, normally, but he knows that Steve’s the type of guy who has to take things slow. They have time.

When they’re done, they end up curled against each other, the flannel sheets tangled around them.

It’s still raining hard outside, and Bucky is nearly asleep. He’s so sleepy, in fact, that he ends up asking questions he hasn’t had the guts to ask yet.

“Hey,” he mumbles into Steve’s shoulder, melting into the pillow as Steve strokes his hair gently. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Steve says quietly.

“Why are you living up here all alone?” Bucky asks, barely opening his eyes. “I know you like hiking and exploring and all of that, but… it must be lonely.”

“It is,” Steve agrees, and then doesn’t say anything else for a while. Bucky is getting anxious, and finally Steve speaks again.

“Things were… not that good, before I moved up here,” he starts. “A bunch of stuff happened really close together. My girlfriend broke up with me, and then the next day I found out my mom was sick. She passed away a month later – “

“Steve,” Bucky says quietly, horrified, but Steve keeps talking.

“She passed away, and on the day of her funeral, a friend of mine died on the way there. He had a heart condition. And then another close friend, who apparently got involved in some stuff at work, had to enter witness protection – “

“Are you serious?” Bucky asks. He props himself up on his elbows, staring at Steve on horror.

Steve laughs, but he isn’t really smiling. “Yeah, unfortunately. So she left in the middle of the night and I haven’t heard from her since. By that point, I’d missed so many days of work that I got fired, which sucked because after the funeral costs and trying to help out my friends’ families, I had no money left. So then I couldn’t pay my rent, and I got evicted, so I had to shove as much of my stuff into my car as I could and sell the rest. So just as I was moving the last of my stuff out, my phone rang.”

“Oh no,” Bucky mutters.

“Yup,” Steve says. “My uncle, my only other living relative, had just been killed in a home invasion. So once I dealt with that, and his funeral was done, I got back in my car and drove up to the mountains. I had a shitty little tent from a camping trip my friends did years ago, so I set it up in a random campground. It was only about ten bucks a night to stay there, which was a hell of a lot cheaper than paying rent, and the campground had showers and a little internet hut and everything. So I lived there for a while, and I got to know all the park rangers pretty well. So when one of them had to leave on disability, they had an open position, and I applied for it. I started there, and then when this position up here opened up, I took it.”

Bucky is devastated. Steve is just lying on his back staring at the ceiling, one of his hands now running over Bucky’s arm, but Bucky can feel the pain he’s in.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” he says, knowing that’s inadequate but there isn’t much else to say.

“Yeah,” Steve says quietly. “Yeah. So. I thought it’d be…easier, to not deal with people for a while, because I couldn’t take any more pain, I just couldn’t.”

“And was it?”

Steve takes a deep breath and then lets it out slowly. “For a while, yeah. It was kind of freeing, not having to worry about anyone other than myself. But after a while it – it got lonely. It got really lonely.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Bucky says. “Thank you for telling me.”

He lies back down again, and presses as close to Steve’s side as he can get. Steve resumes running his hand through Bucky’s hair.

Bucky waits to see if Steve wants to talk more, but he doesn’t say anything else. Between Steve’s hand in his hair, the rain outside, and the warmth of the bed, Bucky is starting to fall asleep again.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asks quietly, and Bucky tries his best not to tense up. “You’ve got all these scars, Buck, and I know something… something bad happened to you?”

Bucky deliberately keeps his breathing steady and even, and his muscles relaxed. It’s not fair, he knows that, not when Steve has just told him all this incredibly personal stuff. But he can’t and won’t talk about it, so pretending to sleep it is.

Steve waits for a moment, and then sighs. He moves around a little bit and pulls the blankets further up over both of them, and settles back down.

It’s not long before Steve’s breathing evens out and gets slower. Bucky is still awake, though, and he is for a long time after that, just staring at the pattern on the blanket and desperately trying to think of an excuse for the next time Steve asks.

 

It’s still raining the next morning, but there’s a twenty minute span where the worst of it eases off. Steve throws on his raingear and hurries outside, and quickly uses his little camp stove to make them breakfast. The rain starts up again as soon as Steve’s finishing up, and they have to scramble to get the camp stove put away and the food back inside.

It’s pretty nice, though, eating warm food while wearing Steve’s clothes and sitting wrapped on a blanket on his couch.

“I’m so sorry you’re missing work,” Steve says for what’s probably the hundredth time.

“Steve,” Bucky says, trying not to sound exasperated. “I don’t care. I don’t like my job, and I don’t need the money.”

Steve frowns a little at that. “You work in insurance, right? Does it pay that well?”

“Uh,” Bucky says slowly. “Well, it’s alright, but I don’t have a lot of expenses. My apartment is small and pretty shitty, my car payment is low, and I don’t do much outside of work.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, and Bucky relaxes when he leaves it at that. None of what he said was a lie, but he also doesn’t mention all the money he still has from his last job.

“Hey,” Bucky says. “You want to play cards again?”

The day is easily one of the most relaxing days that Bucky has ever experienced. There’s no internet, no power, and it’s raining too hard to go outside or do any type of chores. He and Steve play cards, fuck, and nap. Bucky reads aloud from one of Steve’s books, while Steve lies next to him and plays with his hair some more. They use up the last of the laptop’s battery watching more movies. It’s nice. It’s really, really, nice.

The rain finally starts to die off the next morning, but there’s still no way Bucky can hike back down. Some of the roads and bridges are washed out, and there’s flooding. It’s still too dangerous to go, but the power finally comes back on that afternoon.

They get the dishes cleaned up, finally, and they get to take showers with hot water. That also means that Steve can actually cook a proper dinner.

Bucky sprawls out on the couch while Steve cooks, watching him lazily. “Hey,” he says, an idea coming to mind. “Do you know what you should get? A dog. That’d be perfect for you. If you get one that’s big enough, it can even go hiking with you.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, and Bucky suddenly notices that Steve’s shoulders have gone tense. Bucky sits up warily.

“Um,” Steve says slowly, keeping his back to Bucky. “I had – I had a dog, when I first moved up here, but, I, it- “

“Hey,” Bucky says cautiously, because Steve’s voice sounds suspiciously hoarse all of a sudden. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”

“He – it,” Steve keeps trying. “We – “

Bucky winces. “Steve, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Okay,” Steve says in a small voice, and keeps cooking.

Bucky sits there uncomfortably, mentally noting that this is clearly a topic to stay away from. He awkwardly picks up his book again and tries to find his place.

Bucky’s just getting back into the story when he hears a small sniffle from the kitchen, and looks up to see Steve’s shoulders shaking.

“Woah,” Bucky says, quickly putting his book down. “Steve.”

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles.

Bucky gets up off the couch. “Hey,” he says quietly, tugging gently on Steve’s arm until he lets go of the pan on the stove. He turns into Bucky’s arms and buries his face in Bucky’s shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Bucky says, gently rubbing Steve’s back.

“You didn’t know,” Steve says miserably into Bucky’s shoulder.

They stand like that for a few minutes, Steve sobbing into Bucky’s sweater and Bucky running his hand through Steve’s hair.

“It’s ridiculous,” Steve finally says without lifting his head. “I told you about all that horrible stuff that happened to me and didn’t get upset, and then when I try to tell you about my dog, I fucking lose it.”

Bucky pulls back a little so he can see Steve’s face. Steve avoids his eyes, his face puffy.

“It’s okay,” Bucky tells him. “I think… I think you pushed all of that other stuff pretty far down, but all this dog stuff? That’s still pretty close to the surface.”

Steve nods miserably, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. “I’m gonna go wash my face,” he mumbles.

“I’ll keep an eye on dinner,” Bucky says. Steve heads off to the washroom, and Bucky stirs the contents of the pan.

Steve finally shuffles out again, looking a little less puffy but no less miserable. Bucky is just setting both of their plates of food down on the table.

“Sorry,” Steve says again as he sits down.

Bucky frowns at him. “Steve, I don’t mind. I’d rather you cry a little then keep pushing down all this stuff that’s hard for you, okay?”

Steve nods, and they start eating. Bucky changes the subject, and Steve perks up again at the subject of environmental conservation vs. resort expansion.

“Hey,” Steve says as they’re washing the dishes. He hands Bucky a plate to dry. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Bucky says, gritting his teeth as he scrubs at the pan. It’s definitely not the non-stick kind.

“So, I know what you do for work now,” Steve begins, "but I don’t know what you did before the past few years. And you have all these scars, and the nightmares…”

Steve trails off. Bucky stops scrubbing the pan for a moment, staring down into the soapy water.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he finally says.

There’s a pause. “Oh,” Steve says. “Okay.”

Bucky starts up with the dishes again, and changes the subject. Steve doesn’t bring it up again that evening.

 

Of course, after several nights of peaceful sleep, that particular night is another bad one for Bucky. He’s sleeping peacefully, all cozy and warm in bed with Steve sprawled out next to him, when his dreams take a darker turn.

Bucky jolts upright in bed, the phantom pain from the old stab wound in his chest rearing its ugly head. The pain isn’t from the actual injury, Bucky knows that. It’s been healed for years, and the muscles and tendons have long since re-knit. But sometimes he has nightmares about getting stabbed again, and when he wakes up from them, the pain in his chest is almost as bad as when it actually happened.

“Bucky?” Steve says groggily, sitting up slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Bucky just shakes his head at him, still gasping for breath, and rolls out of bed. He stumbles out into the kitchen and flicks the light on, leaning against the counter as he tries to control his breathing.

He hears Steve quietly come out of the bedroom behind him.

“Can I do anything?” Steve asks. Bucky shakes his head. The pain is already fading away again.

They stand in the kitchen for a while, Steve rubbing Bucky’s back as his breathing calms down again.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Steve finally asks. Bucky hesitates. He’s not really sure if he wants to try sleeping again, but he does feel tired. Not to mention that the cabin is cold, and their bed is warm. He shrugs, and Steve gently leads him back into the bedroom.

“Nightmare?” Steve guesses, once they’re tucked back in.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles into the pillow.

Steve’s quiet for a moment. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

Steve sighs and just snuggles closer. Bucky closes his eyes, and before he knows it, he’s asleep again.

 

The flooding starts to clear up by morning, and Bucky finally makes it back down to his car the day after. He has to ford a few small streams to get out again, but he makes it home in one piece.

He goes back up to the mountains that Saturday, even though he’s only been home for a few days. Steve meets him down at the parking lot, but instead of Bucky getting out of the car, Steve waves him back inside.

“I thought we’d go to a different parking lot today,” Steve said. “Try out a different hike with some different views. Do you mind driving there?”

“Hop on in,” Bucky says, quickly grabbing his discarded water bottles and snack wrappers from the passenger’s seat and throwing them in the back. “Sorry my car’s a mess.”

Steve shrugs as he gets in, setting his backpack at his feet. “I don’t mind. Okay, we’re going to turn left on our way out.”

It’s a beautiful morning, and the drive is peaceful. Bucky rolls the windows down and turns the music up, laughing as Steve does his best to hit the falsetto notes in the song.

They’ve only been on the road about twenty minutes when they drive past a car parked on the shoulder of the highway. Bucky doesn’t think anything of it, but Steve suddenly twists in his seat to look behind them.

“Are you – turn around!” Steve says sharply.

“What?” Bucky asks.

“Turn around!” Steve repeats. Bucky checks the road to make sure there’s no one coming, slows down, and does a u-turn.

“I can’t believe this,” Steve practically snarls. “Pull over here.”

Bucky does, and Steve jumps out of the car and stomps across the road. Bucky leans out the window to watch, and finally sees the situation that Steve spotted.

There’s a huge grizzly bear on the side of the road, close to the edge of the forest. A family has pulled over and gotten out of the car, including their two small children. The father has a loaf of bread in one hand and is standing just a few feet from the bear, holding out a few pieces of bread with the other. The wife is cooing with excitement and taking pictures while the children bounce around beside her.

At least, that’s what they’re doing before they turn and see Steve coming towards them across the road. He’s not wearing his park ranger uniform – he’s just dressed in a pair of hiking pants and one of his favourite flannel shirts. He’s also at least 3 inches taller than the father of the family, and about a hundred pounds heavier.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steve shouts. “Get back!”

The father and mother look at each other. The kids have fallen silent. Meanwhile, the bear jumps a little when Steve starts shouting and then starts ambling back into the forest.

“Get away from it!” Steve shouts again, waving to the family. The mother looks at her husband and starts ushering her children back towards the car, but the husband hesitates.

“We just wanted to – “ the husband starts, and Steve loses it.

“Oh, I know what you wanted,” Steve snaps. “You wanted to feed a bear, get some pictures of you doing it, have a cool story to tell, right?”

“Uh,” the husband says uncomfortably.

“That bear is a wild animal!” Steve shouts. “An incredibly strong predator! It could’ve killed all of you, and you wouldn’t have stood a damn chance against it!”

“It wasn’t angry,” the wife protests.

“Yeah, until you scared it or got a step too close!” Steve shouts back. “Bears can run as fast as horses! It could have charged you at any time!”

Bucky kind of wants to start filming this, because Steve’s rant is so amazing, but he thinks it’s probably best not to.

“And you know what makes me really angry about this?” Steve continues. “Not only did you put your kids in danger, but do you know what happens when a bear or another wild animal attacks humans?”

The family is quiet now, probably having realized they won’t win this argument.

“They kill it,” Steve continues. “That animal is hunted down and shot, because it’s labelled as a dangerous predator, despite doing nothing except try to protect itself because it’s scared.”

One of the kids starts crying. Steve look at her, and when he speaks again, it’s a little less loud.

“When you feed a wild animal, like that bear,” Steve continues, “you’re teaching it several things. The first thing is that humans are a source of food. The second is that humans are not a threat. What that means is that the next time that bear sees humans, or goes by a town or a campground, it’s going to get closer instead of running in the other direction. It’s going to go up to humans in the hopes of being given food again. So now not only is that bear more likely to hurt innocent people because it wanders into their campsite, but now it’s also more likely to be killed because it’s running through the centre of town.”

Both kids are now crying. “I don’t want the bear to die,” sobs the son.

“Next time you see a wild animal on the side of the road, keep driving,” Steve says. “Take a picture as you go by, but otherwise leave it alone. They aren’t pets. They aren’t domesticated.”

“I get it,” the husband mutters uncomfortably, his face bright red. His wife starts herding the crying children back into the car.

Steve glares at him. “Do better,” he says, and storms back across the road to Bucky’s car.

By the time Steve gets in and closes the door behind him, Bucky is nearly crying from laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Steve snaps, still riled up from his rant.

“Do better,” Bucky mimics as he pulls back onto the road. “That was incredible.”

Steve scowls and crosses his arms. “I’m so mad. I’m still so mad. They could have gotten those innocent kids killed! They’re just lucky that bear didn’t have cubs with it!”

“I know,” Bucky says, still snickering. “I completely agree. But oh my god, Steve.”

“I get riled up over shit like this!” Steve protests, and Bucky starts laughing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: angst!!! :D :D :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are so sweet I love u

It’s a good weekend. Bucky goes home for the week and spends every day counting the hours until he can go back up again.

But when he pulls into the parking lot Saturday morning, he can tell something’s off right away.

Steve is sitting on the ground with his shoulders hunched in. He looks up when Bucky gets out of the car and grabs his backpack, but he’s frowning.

“Morning,” Bucky calls. “How’re you?”

“Fine, thanks,” Steve says flatly, and Bucky stares at him. “I don’t have anything planned out for today.”

Bucky watches him carefully. “Okay,” he says, “that’s fine. Want to just go up to your place?”

Steve shrugs, but turns and starts heading up the path. Bucky locks his car and follows him.

“So,” Bucky tries, after a few minutes of walking in silence. “Anything exciting happen this week?”

“No.” There’s another long pause. “How was your week?” Steve finally says, but it sounds like he doesn’t really care.

“Uh, good,” Bucky says uncomfortably. He keeps trying to make small talk as they hike, but it’s not that successful. Bucky tries his best to be patient – after all, Steve’s always been patient with him when he gets in a mood.

They hike up to Steve’s cabin. Bucky puts his backpack down and sits on the front steps, expecting Steve to grab some drinks and join him. Instead, Steve gets his axe and goes over to his woodpile. He grabs a few of the bigger logs and starts chopping them up.

“You’re really living up to your lumberjack aesthetic,” Bucky calls. Steve doesn’t even look at him.

Bucky sits there and drinks from his water bottle. Steve chops wood and ignores him.

“Hey,” Bucky finally shouts. “Steve. Come over here.”

Steve finally looks at him and puts the axe and the wood down. He walks over to where Bucky’s sitting and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at him.

“What’s up with you today?” Bucky asks.

“Nothing,” Steve says shortly. “Do you want lunch? I want lunch.”

He steps past Bucky and goes into the cabin. Bucky rolls his eyes and follows him.

“Steve, clearly something’s up,” Bucky says, leaning in the doorway.

Steve ignores him and keeps pulling plates and cutlery out of his cupboards. “There’s a few things.”

“Okay,” Bucky says slowly. “Do you want to talk about any of them?”

Steve starts grabbing food out of the fridge for sandwiches, keeping his back to Bucky. “They might be closing this station.”

“What do you – oh,” Bucky says. “The cabin? They’re going to close your post up here?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, angrily putting sandwiches together. “After this summer. They’re not going to open it up again next spring like they usually do.”

Bucky frowns. “But don’t you do kind of an important job? What are they going to do with no one up here?”

Steve puts his knife and cheese block down to make dramatic air quotes with his fingers. “They’re going to ‘patrol with drones’ instead.”

“That sounds… like a lot more work than just sticking someone up here,” Bucky says.

Steve shrugs, still not looking at Bucky. “Not my call.”

“What are you going to do?” Bucky asks, and immediately regrets it when Steve’s shoulders tense.

“I don’t know!” Steve says loudly. It’s not shouting, but it’s not quiet either. “I don’t know, I don’t fucking know what I’m going to do.”

“Hey,” Bucky says, alarmed. “Steve. Hey.” He steps forward and leans against the counter, blocking Steve’s access to the fridge. “You can always come stay with me, okay? You’ve got somewhere to go. You can stay with me for as long as you want.”

Steve stares down at the counter for a long moment. “Yeah,” he mutters quietly.

Bucky relaxes a little. “How long do you have up here before they kick you out?”

Steve starts making the sandwiches again. “Usually I pack up around the end of September, depending on the weather conditions. So until then.”

“What about another park job?” Bucky asks. “Can’t they just move you to another location? Even if you had to live in a little town somewhere.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’d be great, but it’s not going to happen. The budget cuts get worse every year, and positions are hard enough to get as it is. It’s usually based off seniority, so the people who’ve worked here the longest get preference when a new position opens up. I don’t stand a chance.”

“Okay,” Bucky says slowly. “Well, maybe we could find you another job up here, like as a tour guide or something – “

“Bucky, I don’t… I don’t want to talk about this right now, okay?” Steve says, still not meeting Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky holds his hands up. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Come on, let’s go each lunch outside, alright?”

Steve nods, and they take their food outside to sit on the deck.

It’s a quiet day. Steve still doesn’t seem to want to talk much. Bucky can tell that he’s stressed, so he doesn’t push. He helps Steve do some basic maintenance around the cabin, they have dinner, and go to bed. It’s a quiet evening, and Steve’s still grumpy the next morning.

It’s already hot when they wake up, and soon the air in the cabin becomes stifling. They walk to the river after breakfast to cool off. Bucky leaves his shoes and socks on the edge and wades in, finally finding a rock to sit on while his legs dangle into the water.

Steve comes to sit on a rock a few feet away. He sits there and stares down the river, not saying anything.

“Is something else bothering you?” Bucky finally asks. “I get that you’re stressed about the job thing, but a lot of it seems like it’s kind of… directed towards me.”

There’s a long pause before Steve speaks. “It’s not directed at you,” he says. “It’s just… I shared a lot of really personal stuff with you, Buck. You know pretty much everything about me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

Bucky stares at him. “That’s not true. You know lots about me.”

Steve shakes his head. “I know stuff about you as a person. I know what your favourite colour is and what condiments you don’t like on your sandwich, things like that. But I don’t know anything about your life! I have no idea where you grew up, or what you did for work before you current job, or why you’re covered in scars from… I don’t even know what could cause those!”

Bucky winces. “I…” he says, and then stops.

Steve grabs a handful of rocks from beside him and starts tossing them down the river, into the water. “Am I wrong for thinking that? Am I overreacting?”

Bucky sighs. “No, you’re not. That’s fair, that you want to know that stuff.”

When Bucky doesn’t say anything else, Steve stops throwing rocks and turns to stare at him.

“I mean, I can tell you some things,” Bucky says hurriedly. “I have two sisters and a ton of relatives but my parents are both dead. I – “

He cuts himself off because Steve is giving him an incredulous look.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Steve asks. “When I told you about my mom, why didn’t you tell me that your parents had also passed away?”

Bucky groans and drops his head into his hands. “I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you that. It’s just habit, I’m not used to telling people these things!”

Steve gets up and heads back over to the riverbank. He starts putting his own shoes back on, so Bucky hurries over too.

“Hey,” he says, catching Steve’s arm. “Steve, look at me. I’m sorry. I’ll try and do better. I’m just not used to this.”

Steve sighs and sits down on the riverbank. “Okay,” he says. “So where’d you get those scars?”

Bucky pulls his socks and shoes on and sits down next to him, because he doesn’t want to look Steve in the eyes for this. “That I can’t tell you.”

“Are you serious?” Steve asks. “Bucky, I – “

“I can’t, Steve!” Bucky says, and there’s enough desperation in his voice that Steve stops talking. “I legally can’t tell you most of it!"

“What do you mean, you legally can’t tell me?” Steve asks.

“Exactly what it sounds like.”

“That’s… so vague,” Steve says. “What the hell am I supposed to say to that?”

Bucky shrugs. “Steve, I’m never, ever, going to be able to tell you it,” he says. “Ever.”

“Is it… bad?” Steve asks.

Bucky shrugs again. “It’s… not all bad. I just can’t talk about it.”

“Well, what about the other stuff?” Steve asks. “Surely you can tell me some of it."

Bucky sighs. “It’s not good stuff, Steve, I don’t want to talk about it and I don’t want to think about it. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s never going to affect you, it’s not going to come back and haunt me in the future. It’s done. It’s all done.”

“You know that now I’m thinking of things that are probably way worse than what you actually did.”

Bucky picks up a rock and starts turning it over and over in his hands. He feels sad, suddenly. Tired. “Look, Steve, I… I got in over my head when I was younger, signed up for things that I didn’t understand, and got out as soon as could. That’s it.”

“Did you work for the government?” Steve asks.

“No,” Bucky says. “Steve, I need to know if you can live with this. I promise that I’ll work on being more honest and open with you. I’ll tell you everything that you want to know except for what I legally can’t.”

Steve sits there and thinks about it. Bucky doesn’t look at him, keeping his eyes on the rock in his hands.

“Okay,” Steve says finally. “As long as you’re honest about everything else. I’m okay with not knowing what you used to do for work. If you’re sure that it won’t be a problem in future. Like, nobody’s going to go come murder us in our sleep, are they?”

Bucky laughs, more with relief than anything. “No. Nothing like that, I promise.”

Steve gets to his feet and holds out his hand. “C’mon,” he says. “You can start talking as we walk back.”

Bucky spends the entire afternoon telling Steve everything he can. By the evening, Steve seems a lot calmer, and he falls asleep on the couch with his head on Bucky’s shoulder. There’s still no solution to Steve’s housing problem, but at least their relationship is strong again.

 

At least, that’s what Bucky thinks. When he goes back up the next weekend, Steve is still nearly vibrating with stress.

“It’ll work out,” Bucky says soothingly as Steve paces around in front of the cabin. Bucky is sitting on the deck and watching him. “We’ll find you a new job and a new place to live.”

Steve groans. “Not up here. I’ve looked, there’s nobody hiring anywhere near here.”

“So move back to the city for a while,” Bucky says. “You want a job in insurance? I’m sure I can get you a job where I work.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Steve says as he walks by Bucky again, “but I’ll go crazy if I have to move back there. I used to love the energy, and the sound, and being able to get takeout at any hour of the night but now… now I just get anxious.”

“It’ll work out,” Bucky says again, but Steve just sighs and shakes his head.

Steve is distracted all weekend. They hike and read and cook and sit and watch the sunsets, but Steve isn’t himself. Bucky can tell that his anxiety is getting worse with every passing day.

“I’ll look for jobs for you this week,” Bucky tells him on Sunday as they’re eating breakfast, before Bucky hikes back down to his car. “It’ll be easier for me because I have internet access. I’ll let you know what I find when I come back up next week – “

“Maybe you shouldn’t come back next weekend,” Steve says. He’s staring down at his plate, not meeting Bucky’s eyes.

“Oh,” Bucky says slowly. “Uh, why?”

“I’ll be really busy,” Steve says, moving his food around on the plate with his fork. “I won’t have time to do anything fun with you.”

Bucky frowns. “We don’t have to do anything fun. I can help you back, or clean, or whatever – “

“I just think it’ll be easiest if you don’t come,” Steve says.

“Okay,” Bucky says finally, and he follows through. He spends the next weekend running errands and lying on the couch in his apartment with the tv on. He texts Steve a few times asking how things are going, but he never gets a reply.

It hurts. If Steve isn’t texting him back, he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not one to text back right away – he usually doesn’t have his phone on him if he’s outside or in the forest and doesn’t have reception, but as soon as he gets back to his cabin he always replies.

Bucky just can’t figure out what he did. Sure, he knows Steve was frustrated by his inability to open up, but Bucky had thought they’d moved past that. He doesn’t understand why Steve is shutting him out now.

Steve doesn’t reply for an entire week, and Bucky ends up alternating between being worried and being angry. If it turns out that Steve is fine and he’s just been ignoring Bucky, then Bucky will be really, really irritated, but what if something happened? Steve has his phone number but it’s not like he’s listed as Steve’s emergency contact or anything. If he got hurt, or lost, or something worse, then Bucky would never find out about it.

So, with that in mind, he packs his car and drives up on Saturday morning.

The parking lot is empty and quiet when Bucky gets there. He locks his car, shoulders his backpack, and starts walking.

He makes good time on the way up to Steve’s cabin. The morning air is cool, and it feels refreshing after his week in the city.

Steve’s outside when Bucky finally emerges from the trees. He’s wearing his typical lumberjack outfit, with his thick flannel shirt loose over a t-shirt.

He looks like he’s in the process of dragging his wood pile closer to the cabin. He also doesn’t notice Bucky coming towards him, until Bucky stops and says “morning, Steve.”

Steve jumps about a foot in air and spins around. He groans when he realizes it’s Bucky, and presses his hand against his chest.

“Jesus, Buck,” he says. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, so they just stand there and stare at each other for a long moment.

“Glad to see you’re alive,” Bucky finally says. “I was worried.”

Steve’s face turns red, and he eyes his cabin like he wants to run inside and shut the door. “Sorry. I know you texted me, but I’ve been busy. I forgot to reply.”

“So, you just… didn’t think about me?” Bucky asks. “For weeks?”

“No, of course I did,” Steve says anxiously. “I just – “

“Just what, Steve?” Bucky asks. “Don’t lie to me, you’re not good at it.”

Steve avoids his eyes. “I just got busy,” he mutters. “You must be hungry. Do you want lunch?”

 

Steve throws himself into trying to make it seem like everything’s fine. Bucky doesn’t buy it for a second.

Steve’s just trying too hard. He makes Bucky lunch, chatting the entire time, and then takes him out in the afternoon on a hike down to a pond. Sure, he’s acting like he’s cheerful, but it’s obvious to Bucky that’s he’s faking it.

It becomes even more clear that night, when Steve gently takes the book out of Bucky’s hand from where he’s reading on the couch.

“Steve – “ Bucky starts, but Steve’s already climbed on top of him and is kissing him.

Bucky goes with it for a few minutes. He kisses back and lets Steve grind down against him, and it feels good. But when Steve starts tugging at Bucky’s clothes, Bucky pushes back and tries to sit up.

“Steve – “ he says, and Steve lets go and sits back.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. His hair is sticking up from Bucky running his hands through it, and his shirt is rumpled and pulled to the side.

“You tell me,” Bucky says, and sighs when Steve just stares at him. “Steve, you’re not acting like yourself. You don’t respond to my texts, and now that I’m here, you’re going overboard pretending everything’s fine.”

“Everything is fine,” Steve insists, still straddling Bucky’s legs. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”

“We’re not, Steve,” Bucky says, trying to his exasperation as best he can. “You gotta tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on!” Steve says, and gets up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Steve – “ Bucky tries, but Steve’s already disappeared into the bedroom. Bucky flops back down on the couch and groans.

When Bucky finally goes to bed a while later, Steve is lying on his stomach under the blankets, his face turned to the wall. He’s clearly pretending to sleep.

Bucky sighs again and gets into bed. They lie there in silence for a while before Bucky rolls over and gently puts his hand on Steve’s back.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Bucky says quietly, “but I feel like that’s already happening.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, even though the tension in his back still tells Bucky that’s not sleeping.

“I love you,” Bucky says quietly, and hopes like hell Steve will react.

He doesn’t. Bucky hears his breathing speed up and then pointedly slow down again, like he’s faking sleep and trying too hard at it.

Bucky finally rolls away from him and curls up. He doesn’t know what else to do.

The next morning, Steve keeps pretending that everything’s fine. He doesn’t mention what Bucky said the night before. He makes breakfast for them and talks about environmental conservation while Bucky sits silently at the table.

They eat, and Steve keeps moving around with the nervous energy he’d had since yesterday. He doesn’t say anything about Bucky’s silence.

“So, do you want to go down to the river today?” Steve asks, scrubbing the dishes way harder than is actually necessary.

“No,” Bucky says. “I should get going.”

“Home?” Steve asks. “Already?”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, and gets up to grab his stuff.

Steve trails after him as Bucky gets ready. “I’ll walk down with you,” he says.

Bucky shakes his head as he puts his boots on. “That’s alright. I can go by myself.”

“You sure?” Steve asks. “I don’t mind.”

“I’m good,” Bucky says, and gets up. He heads outside into the bright sunlight, and steps off the porch into the grass.

Steve follows him, leaning against the porch rail.

“Well,” Steve says awkwardly, “have a good week at work.”

“Thanks,” Bucky says. He starts to turn and walk away, and then stops and looks back. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

Steve looks visibly uncomfortable. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“Nothing,” Bucky says finally. “Bye, Steve. I’ll see you next week.”

Bucky hikes down alone. He gets in his car just as it starts to rain again. The sound of it isn’t nearly as comforting and cozy as it was the last time.

He sits in his car for a few minutes, staring out at the rain and trying to think about what the fuck he’s going to do next. How he’s going to save this.

 

Bucky texts Steve when he gets home, to let him know he arrived safely. Steve texts back a thumbs up emoji, and nothing else.

Bucky throws his backpack in the corner and goes to bed.

He doesn’t hear anything else from Steve all week. He sends him texts and tries calling a few times.

Nothing.

 

On Saturday morning, Bucky packs his backpack and gets in his car.

The roads are quiet, and he makes good time as he drives up to his usual parking spot.

He parks his car, gets out, and starts hiking.

 

Steve’s not outside when Bucky gets out of the woods and into the clearing. The door to his cabin is shut, and the windows are dark.

He might be out hiking. It’s a possibility.

Bucky walks closer and sees a sign on the front door.

He almost doesn’t want to read it, but he makes himself. Sure enough, it tells him that this cabin is closed and not monitored. It also provides a list of phone numbers he can call for assistance, or to report a forest fire.

Bucky makes himself take a deep breath. He circles the cabin a few times, trying to get a glimpse in the windows. The curtains are pulled shut, but he does manage to see inside through a few gaps in the curtains.

All of Steve’s stuff is gone.

The furniture is still there. The couch, the chairs, the bookshelf. But the blanket and pillows are gone, and the bookshelf is empty. Bucky knows that if he looks in the bedroom, he’ll see the same thing.

“Goddamnit, Steve,” he mutters to himself, and resists the urge to kick the side of the cabin.

His therapist must be doing something right, because Bucky actually manages to make himself walk away and take some more deep breaths. He sits in the grass and stares out at the view, trying not to get overwhelmed with anger.

It would be easier to be furious, and to hate Steve, but he doesn’t. Bucky just can’t. Instead, all he feels is a deep sadness and confusion about what he did wrong. What he missed, here. He knew Steve was pushing him away, that he was shutting him out. Maybe he should have done something more. Confronted Steve directly about it. Maybe –

Bucky makes himself stop. This isn’t going to solve anything.

He takes another long moment to breathe and buries his face in his hands. He pushes away the pain and hurt he’s feeling and gets up. There’s no point in standing around up here.

Just as Bucky starts to walk back towards the trail, he turns and looks back. He walks back to the cabin, takes his phone out, and takes a photo of the sign on the cabin door.

He shoves his phone back into his pocket and hikes all the way back down. When he gets back to his car, and back within reliable cell range, he pulls his phone out and stares at it.

He opens up the photo and attaches it to a text. He starts typing out a message, and then stops and deletes it. Then another one. And another.

They all end up sounding very passive aggressive.

_“Nice, Steve.”_

_“Thanks a lot.”_

_“Thanks for letting me know.”_

Passive aggressive isn’t really what Bucky wants. He has to admit that a little part of him wants to hurt Steve as much as Steve has hurt him, but he knows that’s not going to make him feel any better.

He could just walk away and never text Steve again, never try and call him. But he also doesn’t want Steve to think that Bucky never cared about him, and never wondered where he went or why he did it.

Finally, Bucky sends the photo along with the message “ _I wish you’d told me you were leaving.”_

He sends a second one a moment later that says “ _I hope you’re okay.”_

 

Bucky throws his phone on the seat beside him, starts his car, and drives away.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your comments guys, you all are just the best. I should probably be able to post the next chapter pretty soon as well!

Steve doesn’t reply to the text.

Bucky didn’t really expect him to. With nothing else to do, Bucky goes back to spending his free time locked in his apartment by himself, watching tv and sliding back into the dark moods he was used to before he’d started spending his time up in the  mountains.

“This was a terrible idea,” he complains to his therapist. “I wish you’d never recommended it. I feel worse now than I did before.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I recommended fresh air and exercise, not starting a romantic relationship with a random man you met on the side of a mountain.”

Bucky scowls, but he can’t argue with that.

“I’d like to see you maintain the same level of exercise without the romantic entanglements,” she says. “You do have a gym in your building, right?”

There is a gym in Bucky’s building, so he starts going there every second day. He runs on the treadmill and watches the tv bolted to the wall in front of him.

It’s not the same.

Bucky gets up, goes to work, comes home, goes to the gym, goes back up to his apartment, has dinner, watches tv, and then sleeps. He gives up trying to put any kind of variety in his routine. There doesn’t seem to be any point.

It’s probably his own fault for getting his hopes up, but he’d already started picturing his future with Steve, and now that there’s no chance of that. Bucky feels aimless again, like he’s just going throughout his life without any purpose anymore.

This goes on for weeks, until his boss intercepts him at his desk, just as he’s about to leave for the day.

“Bucky!” he says cheerfully. “We’re all going out for drinks tomorrow night. You’re coming, right?”

“Oh,” Bucky says, and immediately starts to cycle through his list of excuses. What was the last one he used? A friend’s graduation dinner? A family birthday? A funeral? “Sorry,” he continues, “but I’ve got – “

“It’s team building,” his boss says, still smiling. “It’s mandatory.”

Bucky groans inwardly. “I’ll be there,” he says.

 

It’s not that Bucky dislikes his coworkers. They’re alright. He’d probably even like some of them if he got to know them a little better. He just… doesn’t try. He knows he should, his therapist tells him he should, but he hasn’t really seen the point of getting to know them. He’s only at this job until he gets bored and goes and finds another one, and then he’ll never see them again anyway. He often feels like he’s a ghost just passing through other people’s lives, never making a mark on anyone.

Except for Steve, but with the way that ended, it’s not like Bucky’s looking forward to getting back into anything like that.

So when all of his coworkers start putting on their coats the next afternoon as they leave work, Bucky gets up and goes with them. He makes small talk with the girl who sits in the cubicle next to him as they walk, and it’s actually pleasant. She tells him about the new puppy she just brought home, and she even shows him some pictures on her phone.

When they get to the bar, it’s easier for Bucky to sit back and stay quiet. It’s a busy place, and it’s one of those outdoor/indoor places with space heaters outside to keep people warm. Bucky sits at the table and lets his coworkers chat. He drinks his beer and laughs when everyone else does.

After a while, the pitchers of beer on the table just aren’t doing it, so Bucky gets up and goes to the bar. He orders himself an actual drink and then stays at the bar for a few minutes, absentmindedly eating the almonds they have in a bowl on the counter and trying not to drink his drink too quickly.

It’s then that he hears a familiar laugh, and he looks up just in time to see Steve take a drink from his own glass.

He’s outside on the patio, standing with a group of people all huddled around the space heater. He looks good. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and he’s smiling at whatever joke someone just told.

Then he turns to glance around the patio, and sees Bucky staring at him through the window.

Steve freezes, the smile dropping off his face. Bucky looks at him a moment longer, and then goes back to staring into his drink.

He drains it and then waves the bartender down. The bartender gives him a sympathetic look and pours him another that’s even stronger than before.

Bucky sits down on a stool and drinks. It’s up to Steve if he’s going to come over, and Bucky really doubts he’s going to. So he sits and eats another almond.

To his surprise, he suddenly feels someone standing beside him. Bucky looks up to see Steve staring down at him. His face is pale, and he looks decidedly nervous.

Neither of them speak for a moment.

“So,” Bucky says finally. “I’m guessing that it wasn’t really that you didn’t want to come back to the city. You just didn’t want to come back with me.”

“No!” Steve says, clutching his glass tightly. “No, Bucky, that’s not it.”

Bucky waits for him to explain, but Steve doesn’t say anything else. Bucky shakes his head and gets up. “I’ll see you around, I guess,” he says. Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, and so Bucky turns and walks away. He stops by his coworkers’ table on the way out and says goodbye. They all wave at him and then go back to their conversation, like he was never there in the first place.

Bucky stumbles out into the cold night, because the beer he drank at the table and then the stronger drinks he had after are finally kicking in. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets as he walks.

“Bucky!” he hears Steve shout. Bucky sighs and turns around.

Steve jogs to catch up with him, and then stops. He looks at Bucky uncertainly, like he doesn’t know what to say.

Bucky keeps his hands in his pockets and just stares at Steve.

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts out.

Bucky waits. Steve just looks at him anxiously.

Bucky rolls his eyes and turns around again. He’s not going to walk Steve through giving him an actual apology like a child.

“Wait, wait – “ Steve says behind him, and Bucky hears him running to catch up again. “Bucky – “

Bucky groans, but he stops.

“I’m sorry,” Steve repeats. “I’m sorry for what I did, I know it was a shitty thing to do, and I’m so sorry. I know you’re angry – “

“I’m not,” Bucky interrupts.

Steve stares at him. “You’re…not?”

Bucky shrugs. “No.”

He’s not lying. He was angry at first, but he doesn’t have the energy to be angry anymore. He just feels hurt, and tired.

“Bucky, I don’t…” Steve says. “I don’t even know where to – look, do you want to come get a coffee with me? It’s cold out here.”

“No, I don’t,” Bucky says bluntly. “I want to go home.”

Steve looks crestfallen. “If you – if you really want to just leave and never talk to me again, that’s fine, I deserve that,” he says. “But please, Buck, I just want… I want to try and explain myself.”

Bucky sighs. He really does just want to forget about this and go home and crawl into bed, but he also kind of wants to hear what Steve has to say.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Five minutes.”

Steve offers him a tentative smile, which Bucky ignores. “I don’t know if there’s a coffee place nearby – “ Steve starts to say.

“There is,” Bucky says. “There’s one right on the corner there.”

“Oh,” says Steve awkwardly. “Okay.”

They walk in silence to the coffee shop, which luckily is barely two minutes away. Steve holds the door open for Bucky, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief as the warmth of the shop rushes over him.

“What do you want?” Steve asks. “I’ll buy.”

Bucky sighs and glances at the menu. He picks a random drink and goes to sit at a table by the window.

Steve carefully brings two mugs over to their table a few minutes later. Bucky wraps his fingers around his mug and stares down into it.

“When I…. when I found out that they were shutting my post down, it really threw me off,” Steve starts. “I kind of… freaked out, a little. It felt like the rug was being pulled out from under me again, and I was so scared of being homeless for the second time. I panicked.”

“I told you that you could stay with me,” Bucky mutters into his mug. He takes a sip so he doesn’t have to look at Steve.

“I know,” Steve says quietly. “It’s not that I didn’t want to stay with you, Buck, that’s not it at all, and it – that’s part of the reason I wanted to talk to you so badly, because I couldn’t stand you thinking that I didn’t want to live with you. That wasn’t it.”

That does make Bucky feel a little better.

“I thought… I just started thinking about how you’d only known me since I lived up in the mountains, and I’m such a different person when I’m up there. I’m happy, for the most part, and relaxed, and not so – not so neurotic. I started to worry that when you saw the person I normally am, you wouldn’t like me anymore.”

Bucky frowns at that and finally looks up from his coffee. “Steve – “

“I know it sounds silly,” Steve continues, all hunched over in his chair, “but I couldn’t stand the thought of me moving in with you, and then you regretting letting me stay there a few weeks later when you realized you didn’t like the person I actually am.”

“Steve, I promise you, that never would have happened.”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe. But that’s what I thought, and I just kept thinking about it. And then I had to get out more quickly than I thought I’d have to, because they had to terminate my contract earlier than planned. They just couldn’t afford to pay me anymore. So I was already panicking about where I was going to live, and moving all my stuff down the mountain took forever, and I…”

He trails off.

Bucky stares out the window instead of looking at Steve. “You what?” he asks. “Thought it’d be easier to just not fucking tell me? I was worried you were dead, Steve, I thought you’d fallen off a cliff or gotten lost in the woods and died out there.”

“I know,” Steve groans, putting his head in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Bucky, it didn’t even occur to me that you’d think that.”

“So I drove all the way out there,” Bucky continues, “to make sure you weren’t dead, and I hike up to find that sign on the door of your cabin. You fucking ghosted me, Steve. The least you could have done was text me so that I knew you weren’t dead before I went all the way up there. You didn’t even respect me enough to do that.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little angrier than he thought.

“I know!” Steve repeats. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. You’re right, about all of it. I should have texted you. No, I should have done more than that. You deserved more than that. It’s all I’ve thought about since, what I should have done differently.”

Bucky scowls and sits back in his chair. “You have my number,” he says flatly. “You could have called.”

Steve still has his face in his hands. “I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me.”

“If you’d called right away, maybe we could have talked it out,” Bucky says. “Now…”

“I know,” Steve mumbles. He leans his forearms on the table and stares miserably down at his coffee.

They’re quiet for a minute. Bucky almost wants to take pity on Steve, but he also hasn’t even begun to express how deeply Steve hurt him.

“Where are you staying now?” Bucky asks.

“At a friend’s brother’s apartment,” Steve says to the table. “I’ve made a good amount of money since I started the park ranger job because I didn’t really pay rent to stay at the cabin. It was included. But I had so many old bills to pay from the funerals and medical bills and all of that, so I’ve got almost nothing left now. I have enough to keep gas in my car and that’s about it.”

Bucky knew he shouldn’t have let Steve buy the coffee.

“So this guy I worked with said that he had a brother who was looking to rent out a bedroom in his apartment short term, and that I could just pay each day instead of each month, and I didn’t really have any other options,” Steve continues. He shakes his head. “What he didn’t mention was that the room is shared with three other guys, and it’s a four bedroom apartment with four people in each room. There’s one bathroom.”

“Yikes,” Bucky mutters.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “It’s – it’s not ideal, but it’s warmer than sleeping in my car, so it’ll have to do for now. It’s just – really loud, and I can never sleep, and – sorry, you probably don’t care about all of this.”

Bucky does care, actually, but he’s doesn’t know how much he wants to engage with Steve right now. He doesn’t want to open all this back up again and then get hurt just like he did before.

They sit in silence again. Bucky finishes his coffee and puts the mug back down.

“Look,” he says finally. “I’m tired, and I’m still a little drunk. I’m gonna go home. But, Steve, if you… if you really need a place to go, call me, alright? I’m not going to leave you stranded outside sleeping in your car.”

Steve nods. He still looks miserably. He grabs the sleeve of Bucky’s jacket as Bucky stands up from the  table, and then quickly lets go. “Bucky, I… I don’t know what else to say other than I’m sorry, again. If you – I won’t ask you to call me, because I know I don’t deserve it, but if you ever want to call me, or text me, I promise I’ll respond right away, okay?”

“Alright,” Bucky says. “Bye, Steve.”

He leaves Steve sitting along in the coffee shop and heads out into the chilly air. He glances back as he goes to walk home and he sees Steve through the window, still sitting at the table with his head bowed.

 

He feels – confused, to say the least. What Steve did still hurts, and Bucky really would prefer not to feel like that again. Despite Steve’s reassurance that it won’t happen again, Bucky’s not sure if he completely believes that.

Bucky leaves it for a few days and just thinks about it. He goes to work and comes home and watches tv. He eats dinner, goes to the gym a few times, and goes to sleep.

Three days after he ran into Steve, he sits down on the couch and pulls out his phone.

 _“Hey_ ”, he texts to Steve, and then waits.

The response comes almost immediately.

“ _Hi!!!!”_ Steve sends back. _“how are you?”_

Bucky purposefully keeps the conversation light. Steve responds to all of his texts within a few minutes, and he seems eager to keep the conversation going.

Bucky’s missed him, a lot, and it’s nice to hear from him again. But he resists the urge to text Steve and tell him to come over, or ask him out for dinner. Bucky’s not sure he’s ready for that yet.

So when his phone rings on a Friday night and Steve’s number pops up, Bucky’s a little wary. He answers it anyway.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky says.

“Hi,” Steve croaks, and Bucky sits up straight. Something’s wrong. “I know – I know I said that I wouldn’t bother you, and I was trying to do everything at your pace, but I… can I crash at your place tonight? I don’t - I don’t have anywhere else to go and it’s too cold to sleep in my car – “

“Of course,” Bucky says quickly. “Where are you now? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I can come there,” Steve mumbles. He sounds horrible. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I’ll just sleep on your floor – “

Bucky sighs and rubs his forehead. “Look, I’ll text you my address, alright? Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up. Bucky looks down at his phone and sighs again.

 

Steve texts him about half an hour later saying that he’s outside. Bucky buzzes him up, and a few minutes later he hears a quiet knock on his door.

Bucky opens it, and stares at Steve in shock. Half of his face is swollen and red, and some parts are already bruising even darker. One of his eyes is visibly swelling.

“Jesus,” Bucky says. “Steve, what the fuck happened?”

Steve shrugs miserably. All he has with him is a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

“Here, come in,” Bucky says hurriedly, waving Steve inside. “Sit down.”

Steve takes his shoes off and then slumps down on Bucky’s couch.

“What happened?” Bucky asks again as he opens his freezer. He grabs a bag of frozen peas and heads over to the couch.

“One of the guys that I was staying with was stealing all my cash,” Steve mumbles, “and when I confronted him about it, he got mad and started shouting at me. Then out of nowhere, his buddy comes up and sucker punches me in the side of my face, so I hit him back and then both of them were going at me. So the other guys pulled them off and obviously I just packed my stuff and left.”

Bucky sits down on the coffee table opposite him and gently presses the bag of peas against Steve’s face. “Are you going to press charges?”

“No,” Steve says quietly. “It’s not even worth it. I don’t want to deal with that.”

Bucky sighs. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yeah, a little.”

Bucky frowns. “I think we should get you checked out, at least. There’s an urgent care clinic that’s open 24/7 and it’s only a couple blocks over – “

“No, no, I’m okay,” Steve tries to say.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “Steve, you look pretty bad. I’d say there’s a pretty good chance you’ve got a concussion. You probably shouldn’t have even driven here.”

“Bucky, I’m okay, really,” Steve says again. “My face just hurts where they hit me, that’s all.”

“You sure?” Bucky asks. “Are you dizzy? Do you feel sick at all?”

“No,” Steve says firmly. “Just tired. And sore.”

“Fine,” Bucky allows. “But tell me if you start feeling like that.”

“I will,” Steve says, and takes the bag of peas from Bucky so that he can lean back against the back of the couch. “I’m sorry about this, again, I really didn’t want – “

“Steve,” Bucky interrupts. “It’s okay. Are you hungry?”

“A little,” Steve says quietly. Bucky gets up and heads into the kitchen.

He grabs a bag of tortilla chips and throws together a big plate of nachos. It doesn’t take long, and he brings it back out to the couch where Steve is still sitting with the bag of peas against his face. He’s slumped a little into the arm of the couch, now, and looks just as miserable as he did when he walked in.

“Here,” Bucky says, putting the plate down on the coffee table. “Eat.”

Steve grabs some chips with his free hand and starts eating. Bucky sees him wince as he tries to eat.

“Your jaw bothering you?” Bucky asks.

“It’s alright,” Steve mumbles, and carefully eats another chip. “Just swollen.”

Bucky sighs for what feels like the billionth time and gets up again. He does the dishes and tidies up the kitchen. By the time he heads back over to the couch to check on Steve, he finds the plate of food empty and Steve slumped back against the cushions with his eyes closed.

“Hey,” Bucky says, alarmed. “Steve.”

“Mhm?”

“Are you passing out because of your concussion or are you just falling asleep?”

Steve barely opens one eye to look at him, and then closes it again. “Fallin’ asleep. ‘M so tired.”

Bucky watches him warily, but the guy really does look exhausted. Bucky briefly thinks about telling Steve to just take Bucky’s bed, but Steve’s eyes are closed and he already looks sound asleep.

Bucky steps around the coffee table and tugs at Steve’s legs so that he’s lying down across the couch. Bucky grabs a few blankets and gently lays them over Steve, who doesn’t even stir.

It’s still a little too early for Bucky to go to bed, and he’s not tired. But he turns off the lights in the living room and retreats to his bedroom to let Steve sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve must really have been exhausted, because he’s still passed out when Bucky gets up in the morning.

Bucky watches him for a minute to make sure he’s actually sleeping and he hasn’t slipped into a coma or anything, but he seems fine. Eventually Bucky shrugs and starts making breakfast as quietly as he can.

His toaster beeps loudly once the toast is done, and Bucky winces. Sure enough, he hears Steve shift on the couch a moment later.

Bucky sips his orange juice and sits at his breakfast bar, watching Steve wake up. Steve finally sits up, looking around in what appears to be confusion.

Bucky cringes. Steve’s face looks ten times worse this morning. “Hey,” Bucky says in what he hopes is a chipper voice.

“Hi,” Steve croaks. He runs his hands through his hair and winces when his wrist touches his face. “What time is it?”

Bucky glances at the clock. “Little after nine. I’ve got food if you’re hungry.”

Steve still only looks half-awake. “Yeah, I… do you mind if I shower first? I don’t want to impose – “

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Go ahead. First door on the left in the hall. There’s a cabinet inside with towels.”

“Thanks,” Steve says quietly, grabbing his duffel bag and escaping into the washroom. Bucky shakes his head.

When Steve emerges a while later, freshly showered and looking more awake, his face somehow looks even worse.

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters when Steve comes into the kitchen. “Are you sure you didn’t break your cheekbone or something?”

Steve shrugs, and stands awkwardly next to the counter until Bucky slides over Steve’s favourite cereal and the milk. “I don’t think so.”

“You sure you don’t want to go get it checked out?”

“Yes,” Steve says firmly. He avoids Bucky’s eyes and dumps a bunch of cereal in his bowl instead. “Thanks for doing this. You didn’t have to let me stay here, and I really appreciate it.”

It’s so awkward and stilted between them now, and Bucky hates it. But he keeps reminding himself that it was Steve who did this, not him.

“I don’t mind,” Bucky says. “Where’d you leave your car?”

“Put it in a 24 hour parkade. Spent pretty much the only money I have left keeping it there,” Steve says grimly. “I’ll have to go move it later. If it gets towed I can’t afford to get it out.”

Bucky leans against the counter. “Do you have a job yet?”

“Nope,” Steve says, a little bitterly. “I’ve been looking, but nobody’s hiring right now. I’m even more screwed now than I was before. How am I supposed to go into a job interview looking like this?”

“You could tell them you fell down the stairs,” Bucky offers. Steve looks at him incredulously, which is fair. It’s pretty obvious from his bruising that he was in a fight.

“I’d try and get you something at my work,” Bucky continues, “but we’re doing layoffs as it is.”

Steve shrugs. “That’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to.”

They’re quiet for a moment while Steve gingerly eats his cereal. Bucky wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he’s forgiven, but he’s not there quite yet.

“Well, keep looking,” Bucky says. “Do you have your laptop with you? I’ll give you my wifi password.”

Steve gets his computer out, and starts looking through job search websites. Bucky hangs around awkwardly for a while, and then heads out to get groceries (and to get out of the house).

Bucky keeps himself busy all day, and makes both of them the most complicated dinner he can find online to keep himself busy. After they eat, Steve goes to move his car.

Bucky cleans up the kitchen and starts watching tv. Steve doesn’t come back.

When that episode finishes, Bucky looks are the clock and frowns. It shouldn’t have taken Steve this long to move his car.

When another half hour passes, Bucky texts Steve asking where he is. He groans when he hears Steve’s phone beep, and looks up to see it sitting on the table next to the door.

Another half hour passes, and Bucky really starts to worry. He’s just about to get up and go look for Steve when he hears a knock on the door.

Bucky opens it to see Steve standing there looking miserable.

“What happened?” Bucky asks, moving aside so Steve can come in. “I thought you were only going to be gone for maybe fifteen minutes.”

Steve flops down on the couch, staring into space. “My car wouldn’t start. So I was trying to figure out what was wrong with it, not that I know much about cars, and I was going to call you but I left my phone up there. So just as I was about to give up and come back, this guy came over and offered to call a tow truck for me. So they towed it to this twenty four hour repair shop right around the corner, and they took a look at it for me.”

Bucky stares at him. “And?”

Steve shakes his head in disbelief. “And it’s going to cost more to fix it than the car’s worth.”

“You really do have terrible luck,” Bucky says, and Steve laughs.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees bitterly.

“Maybe you should get a second opinion,” Bucky says. “We can try a different garage.”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. It seemed pretty legitimate – he explained everything that was wrong with it and the cost of the parts. That car was a piece of junk in the first place. I’m surprised it lasted this long.”

Bucky sighs. “You gonna sell it?”

Steve groans and runs his hands over his face. “I guess. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t afford the repairs, and it’s not like I can afford a new one.”

“Steve, I can lend you the money – “

“No,” Steve says firmly. “Bucky, I appreciate it, I do, but I can’t – I can’t just take your money.”

Bucky sighs, and gives up.

 

Steve lets the garage buy his car the next morning. When Bucky gets home from work, Steve’s made dinner and there’s a plate waiting for Bucky on the counter.

“Thanks for cooking,” Bucky says as he grabs his plate and sits down next to Steve on the couch.

“No, thank you for letting me stay here,” Steve says, staring blankly at the television. “I’ll be out of your hair in a few days.”

Bucky takes another bite of food. “Steve, where are you going to go?”

Steve avoids Bucky’s gaze. “I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.”

Bucky turns and pulls his legs up on the couch, so that his feet are resting against Steve’s hip. “Hey,” he says, nudging Steve gently with his heel. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Steve mumbles, looking miserable.

“You’re not,” Bucky says firmly. “I like the company.”                                                                               

Steve’s mouth twists, but he doesn’t say anything else.

He doesn’t talk much that evening either. Bucky’s getting a little worried, honestly. Steve’s got a kind of hopeless look in his eyes. He just seems… defeated.

When Bucky gets ready for bed that night, he pokes his head out to glance at the living room. Steve’s just sitting on the couch, staring at the dark television. He hasn’t pulled out the blankets or pillows to set up his bed on the couch. He’s just sitting there.

Bucky hesitates, retreating back into his room. He paces back and forth for a few minutes, and then takes a deep breath and walks out.

Steve looks up at him as Bucky sits down next to him on the couch again.

“Hey,” Steve says tiredly. “Sorry, am I keeping you up?”

“No, no,” Bucky says. “I… are you okay?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Really?” Bucky asks. “You look… pretty down.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve says bitterly. “It’s just – I feel like every time I start to get my life back together, everything falls apart again. And part of that’s my fault, don’t get me wrong. I ruined everything with you – “

“You didn’t – you didn’t _ruin_ everything.”                                                                    

Steve shakes his head. “Yeah, I did. I hurt you, Buck, which is the last thing that I ever wanted to do. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time and now I know that it wasn’t, but I can’t go back and redo it. I can say that I’m sorry a thousand more times, and I will if you want me too, but I know it won’t change anything that I’ve done.”

Bucky sighs and slides forward on the couch so they’re sitting next to each other.

“You did hurt me,” Bucky says slowly, “and I don’t think…I’m not going to say I forgive you. Because I think I still need some more time on that. I understand where you’re coming from, but honestly, I don’t entirely trust you not to do it again.”

“That’s fair,” Steve says quietly.

Bucky pauses and thinks about his next words carefully before he says them. “But I think I can move past it. If that’s what you want to do too.”

Steve finally looks over and meets Bucky’s eyes. “Bucky…” he says, “do you actually want that, or are you just saying that because you feel bad for me?”

“That’s not it,” Bucky reassures him. “I mean, I do feel bad for you, but that’s not why. I think – well, I know it’ll be a while before I trust you again, but we can take things slow, right?”

Steve nods, and leans over so that his head is resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky wraps an arm around him and slides down so that Steve’s half on top of him on the couch.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says miserably into Bucky’s shirt.

“I know,” Bucky tells him. “We’ll work on it.”

 

Bucky drags Steve up and makes him get ready for bed. By the time Steve comes back into Bucky’s bedroom, Bucky is half asleep under the blankets already.

“C’mere,” he mumbles into his pillow as Steve turns the light off.

“You sure?” Steve says quietly. Bucky clumsily pats the bed beside him.

He feels Steve crawl under the covers next to him, and Bucky slips into sleep.

 

Technically they’re back together, but Bucky’s not ready to jump right back in to where they were. The most they do is make out a little against the kitchen counter, but Steve seems fine with going at Bucky’s pace.

Unfortunately, it’s not really the best time to be trying to restart a relationship. Steve can’t get a job, and not for lack of trying. He spends his days either applying online, or walking around from place to place trying to apply in person. When he’s not applying for jobs, he either cleans Bucky’s entire apartment or cooks more meals than Bucky could ever eat in a lifetime.

Bucky’s own work goes from boring and mundane to downright horrible. The company he works for is being bought out by another, so not only is everyone panicked and stressed, every day is complete chaos and unpredictable. Bucky hates it. He never really cared about this job in the first place, but now he’s starting to dread going to work every day.

More than anything, he misses the life he had with Steve out in the wilderness. He misses the quiet, and the slow way of life, and how he felt like all his worries dropped away the minute he got out there.

Steve, too, is clearly miserable. He’s a completely different person than the guy that Bucky first met. Steve is quiet, and stressed, and he barely sleeps. He tosses and turns all night, and spends almost all of his downtime just curled up staring at the television.

Sometimes Bucky can coax a smile out of him, but it’s a rare right.

They’re both not happy, and something needs to change.

 

Bucky gets an idea in his head, and he starts spending a lot of time on his laptop, looking into it.

“What are you doing?” Steve asks one evening, when he comes in from his daily job hunt.

“Working on something,” Bucky says without looking up from his screen.

“On what?”

“You’ll find out,” Bucky says cryptically, and laughs when Steve sighs.

Steve still hasn’t found a job. Bucky can tell that he’s running out of steam a little. Bucky knows it’s hard, putting in all those applications and hearing nothing back. He’s tried to reassure Steve that it’s nothing wrong with him personally, it’s just the competitive job market, but Steve comes back every day looking even more run down than before.

Bucky’s starting to get seriously worried about Steve.

“Hey,” he says gently to Steve one evening, as they’re on the couch watching a movie. Steve is lying on his side with his head on Bucky’s thigh. Bucky has his laptop resting on the arm of the couch, and he’s barely paying attention to the movie.

Steve just seems so… listless. He comes home from handing out resumes, lies down, and usually doesn’t get up until it’s time to go to bed.

“Have you thought about seeing a therapist?” Bucky continues. He feels Steve tense up.

“What?” Steve asks, rolling onto his back a little so he can see Bucky’s face. “No. Why?”

Bucky shrugs. “I dunno. You just seem… you seem pretty down, Steve.”

Steve rolls over again to face the television. “I just need a job, that’s all.”

“Really?” Bucky says doubtfully. “Just a job and you’re going to be magically happy again?”

“Obviously not,” Steve mutters, “but it would help. I wouldn’t feel so useless.”                         

Bucky frowns. “Hey. You’re not useless, don’t say that.”

“Sure feels like it.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Just because you don’t have a job doesn’t make you useless. Even if you never worked again, you wouldn’t be useless.” Bucky tugs at Steve’s shoulder until he rolls onto his back and Bucky can grab the sides of his face. “Steve. Your presence itself is a gift.”

Steve actually laughs, loudly, and Bucky sits back on the couch with a pleased grin. He goes back to working on his laptop, but Steve twists around again.

“What are you _doing_?” Steve asks. “You’re on that thing all the time.”

“Everyone is on their computers all the time,” Bucky says.

“Yeah, but what you’re doing is so secretive.”

“It’s an affair. A sordid, secret affair.”

“Uh huh,” Steve says, apparently unconvinced. “For such a secret affair, you sure do it pretty brazenly.”

“I’ll tell you soon,” Bucky assures him.

Steve groans. “You’ve been saying that for weeks.”

“Soon,” Bucky repeats, and strokes his hair soothingly. Steve rolls his eyes and goes back to watching the movie.

 

One week later, Bucky’s plans finally come to fruition.

Steve comes in after another day of applying to jobs, dropping his bag next to the door with a dejected sigh. Then he stops, and stares at the suitcases in the middle of the living room floor.

Bucky looks up from where he’s kneeling over one of the suitcases, shoving clothes inside.

“Uh,” Steve says. “What’s going on?”

Bucky spreads his arms out. “Steve! Pack your bags.”

Steve is still staring at him warily. “Why?”

“Because,” Bucky says dramatically, “we’re moving.”

“Where are we moving to?” Steve asks carefully, still looking at Bucky like he’s lost his mind.

Bucky grins at him. “I bought land. In Montana.”

“You… what?”

“I bought land in Montana,” Bucky repeats cheerfully, and starts zipping up the suitcase. “Well, there’s a house on it, but the land’s the most important part. So, we’re moving! Well, I’m moving. I can’t tell you what to do, but I really, really want you to come with me.”

Steve holds his hands out. “Wait, wait. Bucky, hold on. I don’t even understand what’s going on right now. How did you – how did you just buy a place in Montana? Did you even see it in person first?”

“Well, no,” Bucky says, and Steve raises his eyebrows. “But I did see it! I found it online first, and then I got a realtor to go check it out for me, and she showed it to me on Skype. It used to be a working ranch, but there’s no animals or anything there anymore. Just the house and the land.”

Steve looks completely incredulous. “How much did this place cost?”

“Well… a lot,” Bucky says hesitantly, still kneeling in front of his suitcase on the floor.

Steve sits down heavily on the couch. “Bucky, how much money do you _have_?”

“Less than I did before.”

Steve shakes his head. “Are you serious about all of this? I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I’m completely serious,” Bucky says, and sets the suitcase upright. “I’ve already signed all the papers. I can show you if you don’t believe me.”

“This is so impulsive,” Steve continues. “Bucky, what if you get there and it’s not at all what you thought it was going to be like? What are you going to do with it when you run out of money? How are you going to be pay the mortgage then?”

Bucky frowns. “Well, there is no mortgage. When I say I bought it, I mean I bought it. I’ve been working on it for a little while now, and I finally got it. I paid for it all in one go. There’s still some more legal stuff to work through until it’s all officially mine, but it turns out that buying property goes a lot faster when you don’t need to deal with trying to get money from the bank.”

Steve stares at him. “Why?”

“Because I need a change,” Bucky says, and wheels the suitcase over to stand with the others he’d left by the door. “And you need a change too. Not that you have to come with me, I want to reiterate that. But I’d like it if you did.”

“You didn’t – you didn’t do this just for me, did you?” Steve asks, sounding horrified.

Bucky scowls and turns to face him, crossing his arms. “No. Contrary to popular belief, not everything actually revolves around you. It might have escaped your notice, but I haven’t exactly been happy with my life here. I needed to change something, so I did.”

Steve’s face softens, and he gets up off the couch. He puts his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and gently runs his hands over his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’ve been… I know you’ve been having a hard time too, Buck, don’t think that I haven’t noticed. I just didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you feel like I was pressuring you into talking about your past or anything like that. I've been trying to figure out how to ask if you were okay without making it sound like that.”

Bucky sighs. “I’m leaving tonight, Steve, or tomorrow morning if I can’t get all my stuff packed in time. You can come with me now, if you want, but if you need more time to think about it, that’s okay too. The offer will stay open.”

Steve bites his lip. “Bucky, I can’t help financially at all. I have no money left.”

“I don’t need you to help financially,” Bucky reminds him. “I’ve got enough money left over for us to live on for a pretty long time. I’m gonna need lots of other help, though. The house needs renovations and the previous owners left a whole bunch of junk all over the place that I’ll need to get rid of. Also, I want your company.”

Steve still doesn’t seem completely convinced. “What about your apartment here?” he asks. “What are you going to do with it?”

Bucky shrugs, unconcerned. “Lease is up soon anyway, I just won’t renew it. All this furniture came with the apartment, I don’t actually own any of it. I’m bringing some books and blankets and towels and things like that, but I’m gonna donate everything else I don’t need.”

“And your job?”

“I quit today,” Bucky says. “Tried to give my two week notice and my boss told me not to bother coming in again, so that’s that.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, but he seems to have run out of arguments.

“So?” Bucky asks. “Decision time. What’s it going to be?”

“I’d – I’d like to come with you,” Steve says. “If you’re sure you want me there.”

Bucky smiles. "I'm sure."

Steve glances at the suitcases by the door. “Guess I’ll start packing then.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did this chapter get so long??? good lord

They pack Bucky’s car with as much as it’ll hold, and donate the rest of Bucky’s stuff. It does end up taking a little longer than Bucky planned, but they’re out of the city and on the road two days later.

Bucky turns up the radio as they drive and sings along, already feeling better with the wide open space around them and the calm scenery passing by. Steve shakes his head and smiles as Bucky does his best to hit the high notes in the song. Poor Steve is squished into the passenger seat and is surrounded by some pots and pans, blankets, and a few pillows that wouldn’t fit in the back of the car.

They stop for dinner at a random fast food place along the highway. Steve goes in to get the food, and Bucky gets out to lean against the hood of the car and stretch his legs a little.

Bucky feels Steve staring at him as they eat, sitting on the hood of the car. He looks over to see Steve watching him with a smile on his face.

“What?” Bucky asks, shoving a few more fries into his mouth. “Do you want some of my fries or something?”

“No, no,” Steve says. “I was just – thinking.”

“About what?”

Steve shrugs. “About how lucky I am to have you.”

Bucky feels self-conscious, all of a sudden. “Uh,” he says awkwardly. “I mean. I’m not that great of a catch.”

“I think you are.”

Bucky finishes his fries and stands up. “Time to get going,” he announces.

He cleans up their garbage and recycling and goes to get back into the car, but Steve suddenly steps in front of him, blocking Bucky’s way back into the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” Steve says. “Bucky, I feel like… I haven’t been there for you like you need me to be, and I get wrapped up in my own shit really easily. I keep doing things wrong.  But I’m going to do better, okay? You deserve better.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he holds up the car keys instead. “You wanna drive? I could use a nap.”

“Of course,” Steve says, and so Bucky takes his nap with his head resting against a pasta pot.

 

By the time they finally get there, they’re both tired of being in the car, tired of driving, and ready to be done.

They finally pull up in front of the gate blocking the road into the ranch. Bucky gets out and finds the lockbox that the realtor left the keys in, for the gate and for the house itself. Bucky manages to get the gate open with significant difficulty. He has to struggle against the rust and warped lock for a few minutes, while Steve leans out the window and shouts fairly useless advice at him. Bucky ignores him and finally manages to wrench the gate open. Steve drives the car inside, while Bucky locks the gate back up behind him and gets back in the car.

“Bucky, this is gorgeous,” Steve says, his eyes wide. “Look at this place!”

The road into the place starts in a small, narrow valley. There’s a stream beside the road as it winds through the hills. Forest covers a large part of the ranch, but as they keep driving, there are some fields as well. They’re overgrown and untamed, but Bucky can see the potential there.

“How far is the house?” Steve asks.

“I’m not exactly sure,” Bucky says, and winces as they hit another pothole. A water bottle falls off the pile of stuff in the seat behind him and lands on his shoulder. “Okay, this road needs some work.”

“But look at this place! Hey, is that a pond?”

“I think so,” Bucky says, trying to squint through the trees.

Eventually the road starts to slope upward a little. Steve actually gasps out loud as they come around a corner and see the house.

The house itself is unremarkable. It’s not a quaint prairie house or a rugged mountain cabin. It’s a generic small building with what looks like vinyl siding and a small deck. It’s probably about 20 or 30 years old, and the beige colour that it had originally been painted is faded and weathered.

It sits in a large clearing a little higher up than the stream, with a large hill behind it. The land in front of the house slopes gradually down towards the forest, but there’s plenty of room for them to build a garage, or even a few more buildings if they wanted. There’s another stream that runs by it around the back, but not too close that there’s a major risk of flooding.

Steve pulls the car up as close as he can to the house without getting it stuck in the overgrown weeds and turns the engine off. “Bucky, this is amazing,” he says, grinning.

“Maybe reserve that statement until you see the inside of the house,” Bucky mutters as he opens his car door. “I think it can use a little work.”

“Look at this!” Steve says, getting out and waving his hands at the trees and fields surrounding them. “Look at all this space! Bucky, how big is this place?”

“You’d have to walk for a long time to hit the edge of the property,” Bucky says as he heads for the front door of the house and digs the keys out of his pocket. “A really long time.”

“I love it,” Steve says. He’s nearly bouncing with excitement like a little kid. Bucky smiles and shakes his head.

It takes him a few tries to get the front door open. Steve follows him inside.

“It’s not that bad,” Steve says, putting his hands on his hips.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, looking around, "but it’s not great either.”

The place isn’t a total dump. The floor inside is covered in gross brown carpet that they’re definitely going to have to rip out. The kitchen has a working stove, but the cabinets are old and faded too. The countertop is chipped and scratched. It's functional, but it's definitely not pretty.

“How’s the water?” Steve asks, and turns the taps on. The faucet sputters for a few moments and then finally starts running. The water is a little rusty at first, but it starts to turn clear after a minute. “Is it safe to drink?”

“The realtor said yes,” Bucky tells him as he starts exploring the rest of the house, “but I think we should get that tested too.”

There’s a few generic bedrooms, and two washrooms. It’s all functional, but kind of gross and in desperate need of renovation.

“Hey,” Steve says comfortingly as Bucky’s staring in disgust at the old soap scum covering one of the showers. “It’ll do for now. We’ll get this all cleaned up.” He grabs Bucky’s hand and tows him back outside to the deck. “In the meantime, let’s just look at this.”

It’s so quiet outside, and Bucky already feels himself relaxing. He can hear the birds chirping in the trees, and the wind rustling leaves and grass. There’s no one around for miles and miles.

“Not bad,” he says.

 

They unpack their meager belongings and bring them inside. Bucky immediately regrets not buying more furniture on their way here.

“We’ll get some furniture soon,” Steve says soothingly as he sits down on the dirty floor and grabs one of the bags of their leftover takeout. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

“I’m not exaggerating when I say I’d rather sit in the grass outside,” Bucky complains. “It’s probably cleaner.”

“It’s cold outside,” Steve reminds him. “Come on. Sit. We can start ripping up this carpet tomorrow.”

Bucky scowls and flops down on the floor next to him. He lets himself fall back against the floor, and then flinches upright when his hair touches the carpet.

“I don’t know how to rip up carpet,” Bucky mutters, taking the bag of fries that Steve passes to him.

“You just get a hold of the corner and then start pulling it up. It’s really simple.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I can figure that much out. I meant… I don’t know how to do any of this stuff, Steve. I don’t know how to redo the kitchen or fix that hole in the deck or make the lawn somewhat functional – “

“Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve says calmly. “Take a breath.”

Bucky glares at him and grabs a water bottle. “I knew there was going to be a lot of work, Steve, but this place is so big and maybe I didn’t think this through all the way! You’re right, it was impulsive and – “

Steve interrupts him. “It is a lot of work,” he starts, “but it’s manageable, Bucky. It’ll snow soon, so there’s really no point in doing a lot of the outside work anyway. The deck and things like that, yeah, but the grass can wait. We have all winter to work on the house.”

“Do you know how to replace plumbing?” Bucky asks, pausing to chug more water. “I don’t know how to replace plumbing. I barely even know how to paint a wall. Google’s helpful but it can’t physically do all that stuff for us – “

“Bucky,” Steve interrupts again. “Deep breath.”

Bucky scowls, but he does take a moment to breathe deeply.

“I already know how to do a lot of that stuff,” Steve reminds him, “and we can always hire someone to do the more technical things, like if the wiring needs replacing. For now, the heat works, the electricity works, and we have water.” He pauses. “The heat does work, right?”

“The realtor said it does, but that it doesn’t work that well and we should look into investing in a better furnace.”

“Okay, I don’t know how to replace a furnace,” Steve admits. “That’s another one we can hire someone for. We’ll work it out.”

Bucky sighs. “It’s a lot of work.”

“And neither of us have a job. We have a lot of time on our hands.”

Bucky groans and rolls over until his head is resting on Steve’s thigh. “I was too impulsive.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve says soothingly. “Seriously, Buck, every time I’ve moved I’ve felt like this the first few days. Everything is really overwhelming and stressful any time you move somewhere new. After a few days, it’ll pass.”

 

It does.

They have sex on the floor that first night, even though Bucky complains at length about how dirty the carpet probably is. Steve just laughs and says he’s slept on worse.

Bucky wakes up in the morning curled up against Steve’s side. His joints ache from sleeping on the floor, but the sun is streaming through the dirty windows of the house and it’s so, so quiet.

 

They buy a truck, first. Bucky’s car just isn’t going to cut it on the back roads out here. Once they have that, they set to work on the house.

They start ripping up the carpet, mostly because it’s disgusting and Bucky hates it. They get the corner of the carpet up, and then Bucky grabs on and starts to rip. The carpet comes apart much more quickly than he’d expected, and he stumbles backward. He trips as the carpet comes apart around him, and ends up flat on his back with a large piece of carpet covering him. This sends Steve into such hysterical laughter that Bucky starts to get a little concerned.

“Are you done?” Bucky asks sharply as he crawls out from under the carpet. Steve, who is still literally rolling around on the floor cackling with laughter, just shakes his head and keeps laughing.

Once they finish the floor, they set to work on the rest of it. Bucky paints the walls in all the rooms, because that’s really the extent of his renovating abilities, while Steve carefully scrubs the grime off all the windows. They dust, and clean, and finally the place starts to take on a little character.

They do need help with the kitchens and the washrooms. There’s a small town about a half an hour’s drive away from their ranch, and they hire a local company from there to help them out.

Eventually, the house starts to take shape. Bucky finds furniture at some secondhand stores so they don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore, and Steve starts clearing the weeds from around the house.

Fall is rapidly turning into winter, so they can’t eat meals outside on the deck. The windows in the kitchen are large, though, that enough sun shines streams through them that Bucky can sit at the table and feel like he’s outside.

When it snows for the first time that winter, they discover that one of the hills near the house makes a fantastic sledding hill. They buy some old sleds from town, and Steve makes Bucky wear a helmet before they can go down the hill. It cracks Bucky up with how over the top Steve is about safety, until Bucky hits a patch of ice and ends up tumbling into a tree well, smacking his head against the tree trunk.

“Alright,” he says breathlessly. “Point taken.”

 

It’s quiet. Bucky figures that they’ll have to find something to occupy their time with next winter, but for now, there’s so much work to do on the house that they stay busy for months inside.

The house is really starting to look a lot better. Bucky doesn’t really have a passion for interior decorating and neither does Steve, so the house isn’t going to win any awards or be featured in a magazine anytime soon, but it’s nice. It’s cozy. There’s new hardwood in the kitchen and washrooms, and new carpet in the living room and bedrooms. The furniture is a little mismatched, but it’s comfy. Steve picked out the art for the walls, and the house is really starting to be a warm, comfortable place that Bucky loves hanging out in.

The best part is how much happier Steve is out here. They discovered soon after they moved in that the ranch actually backs onto a state park.

“How did you not know that?” Steve asks. “How did that not come up when you were buying the place?”

“It was an impulsive decision!” Bucky reminds him.

It’s both good and bad. It means that they can hike for hours and hours, going from their land into the park and back again. The bad news is that there’s only a shitty little fence dividing their land from the park.

“This isn’t going to work,” Steve says, frowning at it with his hands on his hips.

“Why not?” Bucky asks, taking a large gulp of water. It’s a hell of a hike from their house out to the fence.

“For one thing, it’s blocking the animals from coming in,” Steve says. “That’s not fair of us, to cut off their habitat just because we own this part of the forest. Sure, the smaller animals can get through, but the bigger ones can’t.”

“Okay,” Bucky agrees. “Then we tear it down.”

Steve shakes his head. “But I also don’t want hunters coming onto our land not realizing that they’ve left the park.”

“So… what does that leave?”

“I have no idea,” Steve says.

In the end, they do tear the fence down. They pay some guys in town to come out and help them do it. Once it’s down, Steve spends over a week putting up signs announcing that the land is private property. It’s still not ideal, but until they find a better solution, it’ll have to do.

 

Steve is still thriving. He’s outside every day, exploring and hiking and just spending time outdoors. He comes back inside with his face red from the cold, but smiling and happy and talkative.

He also still hasn’t said ‘I love you’ back, but Bucky isn’t going to press the issue.

Even though it bothers him a little.

It makes Bucky happy to see Steve like this, and he can’t help but want that pure happiness for himself.

It’s not that he’s unhappy. He loves living out here, out in the wilderness with Steve. It’s fantastic, it’s more than Bucky could ever have dreamed he could have for himself. He’s so, so happy that he gets to spend his days with Steve, that they get to build this life together.

But he just can’t… make his fucked-up brain think like that. He definitely feels better than when he lived in the city, but it’s not like moving out here just fixed him.

He knows it bother Steve, too. Bucky knows, objectively, that a lot of the shit he does could be considered impulsive and reckless. Steve definitely views it that way.

Bucky knows he has a habit of doing it. It’s similar to how this all first started, when he just headed out to take up hiking as a hobby despite not knowing anything about it. He still does the same kind of thing, like climbing up onto their roof to try and fix the internet reception right after a rainstorm. He falls off, and manages to catch himself on the edge of the roof at the last second. Steve lectures him about that one for days.

It’s the little things like that that seem to bother Steve the most. Bucky doesn’t even think about it, honestly. It’s not that’s he’s suicidal – he’s not, he doesn’t want to die. He’s just… not particularly used to being invested in his own well-being. It bother Steve a lot more than it bothers Bucky.

“You just don’t seem to care,” Steve snaps, after he drags Bucky out from the tree well where’s gotten himself stuck, after recklessly pushing his way through a grove of bushes and trees until the ground gave way beneath him, the damp grass sinking beneath his feet. “You never look before you leap, Buck.”

It’s always worked out fine, and Steve is always there to pull him out if he needs help.

 

Overall, it’s not really a problem. Bucky’s reckless behaviour irritates Steve sometimes, but it doesn’t get in the way of their relationship. They’re happy, out there in their new home.

Until the goddamn tree starts hitting the house.

It first happens during a windstorm, with the cold winter air rushing down through the hills and around their house. It’s only snowed a few times since they’ve moved into winter, but Steve says the sharp drop in temperature and the dryness in the air means more snow is coming.

They’re curled up in their bed when it happens the first time.

Bucky jerks awake, panic filling his body. There’s another loud crash against the side of the house, and Bucky can barely breathe through his fear.

He sits bolt upright in bed, struggling to free his legs from the blankets.

“It’s okay,” Steve slurs, barely even waking up. He clumsily reaches up and runs his hand over Bucky’s back. “It’s just the tree, Buck, go back to sleep.”

Bucky can’t. He cringes as there’s another crash, as the tree outside their living room window thumps against the side of the house again.

“Lie down,” Steve sleepily orders. Bucky does so, but his heart is pounding.

Rationally, he knows it’s just the wind pushing the tree against the house, but there’s something about the sound. Bucky can’t relax. He lies there next to Steve trying not to fidget, but he doesn’t sleep the whole night.

He’s exhausted and cranky the next day. He spends most of the day lying on the couch watching movies, and trying to rein in his irrational irritation at the noise Steve is making outside working on the deck. Bucky’s still too wired to sleep from the loud bangs every time the tree hits the house, but he doesn’t have enough energy to get up and do something productive.

It’s almost midnight by the time Steve drags him to bed.

“Come on,” Steve says as he pulls Bucky up off the couch. “Just try to sleep, okay? Do you want earplugs? Maybe that’d help.”

“No,” Bucky mutters as Steve tugs him into their bedroom. “Earplugs are horrible. I can’t stand not being able to hear.”

“Even if you just wore them for tonight?” Steve asks as he pulls his pajama pants out of the dresser. “You need to sleep, Buck.”

“I’m not wearing earplugs,” Bucky grumbles, sitting on the bed with his arms folded. He’s well aware that he’s probably acting like a sullen teenager, but his brain feels so overstimulated and he’s so tired.

“Bucky, if there’s some kind of emergency like a fire or something, I’ll hear it and wake up,” Steve says as he gets changed. “You don’t need to be on guard all the time. It’s okay to relax.”

Bucky scowls and crawls up the bed, flopping down on top of the blankets with his face pressed into his pillow.

Steve sighs, and finishes getting ready for bed. He turns the lights off and crawls into bed next to Bucky.

“Just try taking deep breaths – “ Steve starts to say.

“Leave me alone,” Bucky snaps. He immediately feels bad about it – he knows that Steve’s just trying to help. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but Bucky feels him roll over to the other side of the bed. At that moment, the tree slams against the house again and Bucky flinches.

 

Bucky doesn’t sleep at all that night either. By the next morning, he’s so exhausted that he’s physically trembling.

The storm outside is only getting worse. The wind is still howling, and the rain is starting to turn into sleet. It’s probably going to snow soon.

Steve keeps giving Bucky worried looks. Bucky ignores them and curls up under a blanket on the couch.

He doesn’t sleep the next night, either. By the morning, he can’t do anything more than lie still under the blankets on his bed. He’s, so, tired.

Steve gets up early. Bucky hears him moving around the house for a while, and then there’s the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Bucky doesn’t think much of it until he hears another sound outside. He listens for a minute, frowning, and then gets up and stumbles outside, barely pausing to shove his boots on.

“Steve?” he calls as he steps outside into the cold morning air. There’s no reply, until Bucky walks around to the back of the house.

Steve has his axe out, and is clearly halfway through the process of chopping down the large tree that’s been hitting the house.

“What are you doing?” Bucky calls, walking closer. Steve stops and looks up at him through his protective eye goggles.

“Stand back a little,” Steve calls. “It should fall away from the house when it goes, but stand back just in case.”

Bucky groans. “Steve, you didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I did,” Steve says firmly, shifting the axe in his hand. “You can’t sleep, Bucky. Besides, it really is too close to the house. If it falls, I don’t want it crashing through the living room window.”

Bucky feels kind of bad. “It’s not the tree’s fault that I’m so fucking neurotic.”

Steve sighs. “We can go out and plant more trees in the spring, okay? Come on, Buck, back up.”

Bucky does. It doesn’t take long before the tree is falling in the opposite direction of the house.

Steve chops up the rest of the tree so they can use it as firewood. Bucky is too tired to even appreciate Steve truly living up to his lumberjack aesthetic. He stumbles back inside and collapses in bed again, willing himself to finally fall asleep.

He does start to doze for a while, but then he gasps himself awake again. He sits up and takes a few deep breaths, and then lies back down again.

The cycle just keeps repeating itself. Even when night falls again and Steve comes to bed, Bucky’s barely managed to get a few hours of uneasy sleep.

“What’s waking you up now?” Steve asks, concerned, as they lie there in the darkness.

“Nothing,” Bucky mumbles, lying on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes. His heart is racing and his entire body feels tense. “There’s nothing, I’m just so – so fucking anxious and I can’t calm down.”

Steve is quiet for a minute. “Can I help?” he asks.

“No,” Bucky says quietly. Steve sighs, and Bucky pulls his arm away to stare at the ceiling miserably. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m dragging you down again. You’re so happy out here.”

“And you’re not?” Steve asks carefully.

“No, no, I am, “ Bucky says hastily. “I am, Steve, don’t get me wrong. I just feel like… my brain doesn’t know that.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do,” Steve says. Bucky shakes his head and covers his eyes again.

He’s so tired.

It snows the next day. Steve goes outside to shovel and keep their deck clear. Bucky doesn’t do much else other than sit outside on the deck and watch the snow fall around him.

Eventually, it gets too cold, and Steve drags him back inside.

 

Bucky struggles to get it together again. He’s still only sleeping an hour or two every night, if he’s lucky. Steve’s taken over doing pretty much everything. Steve cooks, cleans, and runs errands. Bucky just spends most of his time either lying on the couch or going on aimless walks.

This continues on for weeks and weeks.

Bucky’s started going out further and further into the woods on his walks. Sometimes Steve comes with him, but today he had to drive into town to get more groceries.

Bucky shoves his boots on and gets his coat and gloves. Steve always brings a pair of heavy-duty mittens with him, but Bucky doesn’t plan on going that far. He also eyes the backpack that Steve always brings with him when he goes into the woods, which has every emergency supply known to mankind, but Bucky really doesn’t think he needs it. He’s not going to be outside for more than half an hour, and he knows his way around pretty well by now.

Bucky sets off. It’s a beautiful morning. Brutally cold, of course, but the sun is shining and the snow coating the hills and trees is sparkling. Bucky can see the mountains in the distance, also covered in snow.

Bucky trudges through the trees, his hands in his pockets. He walks aimlessly, not worried about what direction he’s going. He doesn’t plan on going far enough to get lost, and he’s gotten pretty familiar with the woods around here by now.

To his surprise, he stumbles onto a small canyon. The stream that runs through the property has carved its way through the rock here.  

It’s stunningly beautiful. It’s mostly frozen, but Bucky can hear the water trickling behind it. The sun is bouncing off the ice and then off the snow surrounding the rocks.

Steve would love this. Bucky takes his phone out of a pocket and takes a few pictures, so that he can show Steve what he found when he gets back to the house. He’s standing near the edge of the stream, and he leans forward to get a better angle.

The ice underneath his foot gives way, and Bucky is suddenly underwater.

He’s so disorientated that he accidentally breathes in a bunch of water before he gets his head up, gasping and choking and coughing. The stream isn’t deep, but Bucky must have fallen in a particularly deep part. It probably only comes up to his waist, but he fell in face-first and he’s soaking wet.

Bucky clumsily claws his way out of the water, still coughing. His chest hurts. His head hurts. Worst of all, he’s freezing.

He’s already chilled to the bone. He can’t figure out why he’s so disorientated until he feels warmth on the side of his face. He touches his forehead and when he takes his glove away, there’s blood all over it.

He must have hit his head when he fell. Bucky sits on the riverbank and coughs again, trying to pull himself together. He didn’t even realize that he’d walked out onto the ice. The snow had looked and felt just like rock under his feet.

Steve is going to kill him for this. Bucky groans and tugs at the gloves on his hands. His hands are so brutally cold, and his drenched gloves probably aren’t helping. Sure enough, there’s a moment of relief as he manages to pull them off.

Bucky’s phone had been in his pocket, and he groans again as he pulls it out and sees the blank screen. He pokes at it for a few minutes, but it doesn’t turn on again.

He should head back, he knows. He’s soaked in freezing-cold water, and all of his clothing is waterlogged and heavy. He’s going to die of hypothermia if he stays here.

Bucky curses himself for not bringing Steve’s backpack. It has emergency beacons, radios, and even a spare cell phone just for emergencies.

Bucky stumbles upright and winces as the world sways around him. He leans against a tree and takes a deep breath. He’s so cold already, to the point that both his hands and feet are throbbing.

He starts walking. It’s much harder than it was walking here. His clothes are waterlogged, and seem to weigh a ton. Bucky isn’t sure if it’s better for him to take off his freezing cold jacket, or to keep it on.

It’s so, so cold. Bucky swears at himself for being so careless. This is exactly the kind of accident that Steve talks about all the time.

He has to keep stopping to take breaks. His hands and feet have gone completely numb, which he knows is a bad sign. But he gets up again every time and keeps walking.

He makes sure to follow his footprints as he walks. It’d be just his luck to get lost.

By the time he starts to get close to the house, he notices the sun is much lower in the sky. He’s been out here for way too long.

He finally sees the house, and wants to cry with relief. The truck is back in the driveway, which means Steve must be home.

Bucky somehow stumbles up the stairs to the deck and then lets himself collapse against the door. There’s no way he’s going to be able to get it open – he can’t even move his hands.

Thankfully, the front door opens a minute later. Bucky falls into the house as it opens.

“Bucky?” Steve says, sounding confused. Then Bucky’s being dragged inside the house, and the door shoved shut behind him.

Bucky blinks. Steve is crouching in front of him,  

“What happened?” Steve asks, his hands on either side of Bucky’s face.

“Fell in the stream,” Bucky mutters. “’M cold.”

“Did you hit your head?” Steve asks. He looks so worried. “You’re bleeding.”

“Not that hard,” Bucky says.  

“How long were you out there?”

Bucky groans. He’s so cold, but the house is blissfully warm. Bucky wants to just lie down and go to sleep right there on the floor.

 “Talk to me,” Steve orders. He props Bucky upright again when he tries to slide down to the floor. “Bucky, how long were you out there? Are you dizzy? Did you black out at all?”

“You’re gonna be so mad,” Bucky mumbles, leaning back against the wall. Steve is tugging at his coat, but Bucky has his hands tucked under his arms. “I fell through the ice, the snow was covering it.”

“Help me get this off,” Steve says, and Bucky yelps as Steve pulls his hands free. Steve visibly winces when he sees Bucky’s hands.

“Is it bad?” Bucky asks. He feels horrible. Everything hurts from shivering too hard, and he just wants to crawl into a hot shower and lie there for the rest of his life.

“I’ve seen worse,” Steve says, and finally manages to get Bucky’s coat off. He tries to get Bucky’s boots off next, and Bucky nearly shrieks when Steve pulls those off.

“Hands hurt,” Bucky says breathlessly. “Feet hurt, too.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Steve says, now pulling at the rest of Bucky’s clothes. “You’ve got some frostbite going there. Buck, how hard did you hit your head?”

“I don’t care about my head,” Bucky snaps. “Too cold.”

“Well, I’ve got bad news for you,” Steve tells him, “because as soon as I get you in dry clothes we’re going straight to the nearest emergency room.”

“No,” Bucky says firmly, but he’s helpless to do much of anything as Steve manages to get the rest of his clothes off. He’s shivering so violently that it hurts.

Steve leaves him on the floor for a few moments, and then returns with an armful of dry, warm clothing. Bucky groans as Steve helps him slide his coziest sweatshirt over his arms.

“Buck, you’re not completely coherent,” Steve tells him as he shoves Bucky into the dry clothes. “That might be because you’re getting hypothermic, but your head is bleeding and I have no idea how hard you hit it. It could be a concussion. We’ve got to get you checked out for both that and the frostbite.”

“My head’s okay,” Bucky insists. “I just gotta warm up.”

Steve ignores him and grabs a dry pair of boots. Bucky’s feet still feel like blocks of ice as Steve carefully slides the boots on.

“Alright,” Steve says, and carefully helps Bucky up. He practically carries Bucky out to the truck, Bucky’s feet barely brushing the ground as he makes a poor effort at walking.

 Bucky curls up on the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes. He feels like shit.

He opens them again when Steve gently throws several blankets over him and shuts the door. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and turns the truck on, cranking the heat to full blast.

“”m sorry,” Bucky says miserably. “I wasn’t careful at all. I knew better.”

“I’m not mad,” Steve reassures him as the truck starts moving. “I’m just worried.”

Bucky curls up in his blankets and drifts for a few minutes, his muscles finally starting to relax. He’s exhausted.

He jolts awake a few minutes later as pain suddenly explodes in his feet. He gasps out loud.

“Hey, hey,” Steve says soothingly. “You’re okay,”

“Jesus,” Bucky gasps out. “Holy shit, this hurts.”

“I know,” Steve replies. “You’re just warming up again. It’ll pass.”

Bucky groans. He tries to stretch his legs out, and nearly screams as more pain starts up in his hands.

“You’re okay,” Steve repeats. He takes one hand off the wheel and rubs Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“Oh my god,” Bucky moans. It hurts so much that he’s reduced to gasping for breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

As more of his body starts to warm up again, the pain only gets worse. Bucky gets lost in it for a while. He vaguely notices when they get to the hospital, because people are making him get out of the truck and then sit down again. He’s in too much pain to do anything more than writhe around and let people move him wherever they want to.

They take him to have his head scanned, and a doctor shines light into his eyes. Bucky tries to listen to their questions, but the agony he’s in is almost unbearable.

Eventually he ends up in a nice warm room under a nice warm blanket. He has to keep his hands and feet in buckets of water that really doesn’t even feel that warm.

Bucky doesn’t care about much except for how much pain he’s in. He can feel Steve gently running his hand through Bucky’s hair, which feels nice, but the pain is blinding.

“Are they gonna cut my hands off?” he asks Steve at one point, forcing his eyes open. “Or my feet?”

“No,” Steve says firmly. “It’s not that bad, Buck, it really isn’t. I’ve seen much worse.”

“Feels pretty bad,” Bucky gasps out. The stinging pain is so sharp that Bucky wants to cry, except he hasn’t cried in years and doesn’t plan to start now.

“I know,” Steve says calmly. “It’ll start getting better soon. Your head’s okay, though. They think you have a mild concussion, but it could have been a lot worse.”

Bucky groans. “You can lecture me all you want. I deserve it.”

“Maybe when you’re feeling better,” Steve says gently. “You scared the fuck out of me. I was so worried.”

“Did I look like one of those ice zombies from the movie we watched last week?” Bucky mumbles. He’s tired again.

Steve laughs. “Actually, yeah.”

Bucky sighs, and Steve tugs the blanket up higher on his shoulders again. Bucky falls back asleep in moments.

He’s in and out of consciousness for a while. His body is tired, but the pain keeps waking him up.

Finally, the next time Bucky wakes up, the pain has faded a little. His hands and feet still hurt, but not with the same intensity as before.

“Hey,” Steve says from beside him as Bucky blinks at the ceiling. “Is it any better?”

“A little,” Bucky croaks. “Fuck. This is the worst.”

“You want some more water?” Steve asks. Bucky’s throat is dry even though they’ve got an IV in his arm, so he nods and lets Steve help him take a few sips.

“God, Bucky,” Steve sighs as he helps Bucky lie back down. “I know I said I wouldn’t lecture you until you felt better but… I was really worried. That was so reckless, Buck. You didn’t even tell me where you were going. I would never have known where to look for you, or how long you’d been out there for.”

“I know,” Bucky says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not – I’m not mad,” Steve insists. “Don’t apologize. It just worries me. I know you make fun of me for being safe about everything, but I’m safety-conscious for a reason. I’ve seen so many people die or get hurt doing exactly what you did today, going off on their own without being careful. You do stuff like this a lot, Bucky, and it freaks me out. It’s like you think you’re immortal.”

“I don’t think that I’m immortal,” Bucky snaps. “I just don’t c– “

He stops himself and stares at the ceiling, purposefully not looking at Steve. He wants to take his hands out of these stupid water buckets, but he knows he can’t.

Thankfully, a nurse comes in a moment later to check the temperature on the water and check on the frostbite on his hands and feet. She seems happy with his progress, and leaves after adding some warmer water.

“Don’t what?” Steve asks when she’s gone.

Bucky ignores him and returns to staring at the ceiling. Maybe if he falls asleep again he can avoid the direction this conversation is taking.

“Bucky,” Steve says sharply. “Come on, talk to me. You don’t care? Is that it?”

That’s exactly what Bucky had been about to say. “Can we talk about something else?” Bucky asks. He’s feeling trapped, honestly. He’s stuck in this bed and now they’re discussing something that really doesn’t need to be discussed.

“No!” Steve sits up so that he can get into Bucky’s line of sight. “Bucky, do you really not care about what happens to you?”

“Of course I care,” Bucky says defensively.

“Really? Because to me it sounded like you were about to say that you don’t."

Bucky closes his eyes and makes himself take a deep breath. “Steve, can we please talk about this another time?”

There’s a long pause. “Fine. Okay,” Steve says. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“Can you go find out when I can get out of here?” Bucky asks, still looking at the ceiling.

“Sure,” Steve says quietly. Bucky hears him get up and leave. Once he’s gone, Bucky takes another shaky breath and stares at the ceiling, willing himself to keep it together.

 

They end up having to stay overnight. Steve sleeps curled up in the plastic chair beside Bucky’s bed. Bucky barely sleeps at all, flinching awake again as more pain shoots through his hands or an alarm goes off somewhere else in the hospital.

When they finally let him go the next morning, Bucky has never been happier to see their truck. He drifts in and out of sleep all the way home, and he only wakes up as much as he has to so Steve can help him into the house. It’s kind of funny that now he’s finally getting some sleep, after weeks and weeks of nothing.

Bucky collapses on their bed, groaning in relief as his aching muscles stretch out. His whole body still hurts, mostly from all the work his muscles had to do to keep shivering.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” Steve warns as Bucky clumsily crawls under the blankets. “You have to eat something.”

“Counter-proposition,” Bucky mumbles into his pillow. “I sleep for a while, and then I wake up and eat.”

“Nope,” Steve says. “I’ll just keep waking you up again. Do you want soup? Oh, we have leftover chicken noodle. That’d be good for you. I’m going to heat that up, hold on.”

Bucky groans, but he lets Steve heat up the soup. Bucky’s hands are so sore that Steve has to help him eat it, which is embarrassing and Bucky hates it.

After he eats, Bucky falls asleep until noon the next day. He’s still sore when he gets up, and even walking on his swollen feet makes him wince.

It could have been worse, though. The doctors said that his hands and feet should heal, and he’ll regain full functionality. He’ll have to be careful of the cold for potentially the next few years, though, because his frostbitten skin will be much more susceptible to the cold.

Bucky showers and clumsily gets dressed again, putting on his coziest, comfiest clothes. He slowly makes his way back out into the living room, where he finds Steve curled up on the couch with a book.

“Hey,” Steve says as Bucky stumbles in. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky shrugs. “Alright. Better than yesterday, but still not great.” He flops down in the armchair and wraps himself in a blanket again.

Steve closes his book and sits up, the peaceful look on his face falling away. “Bucky, we need to talk.”

Bucky frowns at him. “Uh oh. Those are ominous words.”

Steve sighs. “Bucky, I told you I was going to work on communicating and being honest. This is me trying to tell you what I’m feeling, alright?”

Bucky has to allow that. He did ask for that from Steve, and so far he’s been doing really well. “Okay, okay,” he says. “We can talk. I can be serious. For two minutes. Maybe more, if you’re lucky.” 

He knows as soon as he said it that maybe he shouldn’t have used as playful of a tone, because Steve doesn’t look happy.

“Bucky, I’m not – “ Steve starts, and then pauses. He leans back against the couch cushions. “Bucky, I’m not joking around here. This is seriously concerning me. Any time we try and talk about your mental health, you either ignore me or change the subject.”

Bucky can’t help it. He rolls his eyes, and he sees Steve get visibly irritated by it. “There’s nothing to talk about. My mental health has nothing to do with this,” Bucky says, holding up his swollen hands. “I just wanted to go for a walk, so I did. Excuse me for not carrying your stupid backpack with me at all times. Hell, even if I’ve had it, I’d still have been fucking cold and probably gotten frostbite. I didn’t mean to fall in the water, I really thought I was still on the rock. I didn’t realize I’d walked out onto the ice.”

Steve scowls. “Well, you wouldn’t have, because that backpack has a complete change of clothes, as well as extra mittens and warmers for your feet and hands – "

“Okay, fine, I probably should have brought it,” Bucky snaps. “But I wasn’t being – I wasn’t being fucking suicidal, or whatever it is that you’re implying. I went for a walk, I was trying to take some pictures, and I fell. It was a stupid accident. It could have happened to anyone.”

“I know, Bucky, I know, but that’s not what I’m talking about!” Steve says. He sits up on the couch, anger in his face. “Of course accidents happen. I’m not trying to argue about that, I’m just trying to stay that these walks that you go on are dangerous, because you’re so disassociated from your surroundings that you don’t pay any attention to where you’re going or what you’re doing.”

“What?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Come on. That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous!” Steve says. He’s raising his voice. “You don’t sleep, you only eat if I cook for you, you’re so _anxious_ all the damn time, Buck.”

Bucky glares at him. “Didn’t realize it was such a problem for you.”

“It’s not – Bucky, you know that’s not what I mean!”

“What do you mean, then?” Bucky snaps. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m just trying to talk!” Steve nearly shouts. “You’re acting like I’m accusing you of something, and I’m not, Buck, I’m just worried about you – “

Bucky’s sitting upright on the couch, now. If he could stand up on his aching feet, he would. “You don’t need to be worried about me. I’m an adult, I can take care of myself.”

“Apparently you can’t!”

“If it’s such a problem for you, you can leave!” Bucky shouts. “You can go anytime you want!”

Steve frowns, looking hurt. “Bucky, that’s not – “

Bucky knows he’s overreacting, but he can’t seem to stop. “I don’t even get why you’re so worried about this."

“I’m worried because I love you, Bucky, and – “ Steve starts, and Bucky visibly flinches. Steve stops and stares at him, obviously confused, and then he winces. “Bucky,” he tries to say.

“Really?” Bucky asks. “The first time you tell me you love me is when we’re fighting?”

Steve groans and buries his head in his hands. “Buck - "

Bucky is abruptly way too fed up to deal with this anymore, and he knows that he’s about to start saying unnecessarily mean things that he’ll regret later. So he tries to storm off instead, but his aching body doesn’t cooperate. He has to stumble slowly down the hallway instead, back to the bedroom.

“Bucky!” Steve calls after him. Bucky ignores him and clumsily shoves the door shut behind him. He forgets, though, that Steve went around and oiled all the door hinges and fixed the door frames earlier that week. The newly oiled door slams against the frame with a resounding bang, much more forcefully than Bucky had intended. He’s used to having to shove the door shut with his shoulder, since it never used to close properly.

Bucky cringes, but there’s no sound from Steve. Bucky crawls miserably back into bed and lays down, shoving his face into his pillow.

He expects to just lie there and continue to be angry, but his body must still be exhausted from trying to heal because before he knows it, he’s actually falling asleep again.

 

Bucky wakes up hours later, groggy and still a little tired. The sun is already going down outside, and the light in the bedroom is dim.

There’s a quiet knock on the door, which must have been what woke him up.

“Bucky?” Steve calls quietly. “Can I come in?”

Bucky sighs and rolls over onto his back, rubbing his sore hands over his face. “Yeah.”

Steve opens the door and cautiously comes in. “I made dinner,” he says, holding a plate of what smells like chili. “You didn’t eat today, I thought you might be hungry.”

Bucky’s not, but he knows he should eat. He slowly sits up, resting his back against the headboard.

Steve hands him the plate. “Can I sit?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky mutters. Steve sits down on the bed while Bucky takes a few bites of food.

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Bucky speaks. “Sorry about the door,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mean to slam it, I forgot you fixed the hinges.”

Steve nods. He’s avoiding Bucky’s gaze, staring down at the blanket instead and fidgeting with a loose thread. “I didn’t want to fight,” he says. “I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”

“I know,” Bucky says. He takes another bite of food. “I don’t want to fight either. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“I’m just worried about you,” Steve says quietly, “and… I’m sorry I didn’t say that I love you sooner. I didn’t really think about it, honestly, I just kind of – assumed you knew. I shouldn’t have assumed that. I’m sorry.”

Bucky shrugs listlessly, pushing the food around on the plate with his fork. “Would’ve been nice.”

“Sorry,” Steve says again. “Buck… we gotta do something different. You’re so unhappy, all the time – “

“I’m not unhappy,” Bucky interrupts, frowning. “I’m just… stressed, I guess. Anxious.”

“About what?”

Bucky sighs and gives up on eating, leaning over to put the plate on the nightstand. “Nothing. Really, Steve, nothing. It’s just the ol’ PTSD flaring up.” He gives Steve a half-smile.

Steve doesn’t smile back. “You had a therapist before. Maybe you should get another one out here?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Steve, there’s not even a dentist in town. Where am I supposed to find a therapist around here that isn’t a three hour drive one way?”

“I thought about that,” Steve says earnestly. “I looked it up. There’s lots of therapists that work over Skype now, and you just transfer them the money. That way you could get a really good one, and you could just Skype with them instead of driving there.”

Bucky sighs, but it’s not really a bad idea. “Okay. I’ll look into it, alright?”

Steve looks marginally happier. “There’s also a support group that meets in town. I saw the advertisement when I was getting groceries.”

Bucky narrows his eyes suspiciously. “A support group? For what?”

Bucky’s background is a little… specific. He has not previously found support groups to be helpful for that.

“It’s for people who’ve experienced trauma,” Steve says. “It specifically said that it didn’t matter what kind, it’s very inclusive. They meet on Thursdays.”

Bucky sighs again. It’s not something he particularly wants to do, but he knows Steve’s right. He can’t keep living like this, and he doesn’t really want to.

“Alright,” he says finally. “I could try it.”

Steve finally smiles, looking relieved. “That’s great, Buck.”

Bucky opens his arms, and Steve crawls forward so he can curl up against Bucky.

“If you don’t like the chili, I can make you something else,” Steve says.

“No, no, it’s good,” Bucky replies. “I’m just not hungry.”

“You’re still healing!” Steve protests. “You gotta eat. Don’t make me force feed you.”

“As if you could,” Bucky says, but he reaches for the plate again anyway and carefully picks it up.

 

Bucky spends the next few days searching the internet for a therapist, and finally lands on one that seems to be a good fit. He gets an appointment set up for next Monday. He’s still not sure about the support group, but Steve insists that if he doesn’t like it, he can just stop going.

The frostbite on his hands and feet is healing, thankfully, and all the extra sleeping he’s doing because of it is helping him feel a little more human again. It’s all baby steps forward, but at least it’s forward progress and not backward.

Bucky’s first Skype appointment the next week goes well, and Bucky’s feeling good when he’s cooking dinner that night. He can hear Steve moving around in the bedroom, but he doesn’t think much of it until Steve emerges with a large box under his arm.

“What’s that?” Bucky asks, trying to get some spaghetti to stay on the spoon so he can see if it’s done.

“Its pictures,” Steve says hesitantly. “Of my family, and my friends. I haven’t looked at them in a while, and I was kind of avoiding it because it hurt to look at them. But I was thinking that maybe I could hang some of them up? If you don’t mind.”

Bucky shakes his head. “Steve, of course I don’t mind. I think that’s great.”

“Okay,” Steve says, shifting the box. “I was thinking I could put a few in the living room, and maybe some in the hall?”

“Sounds good,” Bucky says. “Do you want help putting them up?”

Steve shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll just go get the hammer and some nails, they’re already in frames.”

When Bucky’s finished with dinner, he brings the plates out to the living room. Steve already has a few of the pictures up, and is carefully hanging a fourth.

Bucky puts the plates down on the coffee table and wanders over to look. “These are great,” he says, smiling.

“Yeah,” Steve says, carefully making sure the picture he’s hanging is level. “I think – I think it’ll be good, to look at them. That’s my mom, there, that you’re looking at.”

Steve walks Bucky through the pictures, showing him who everyone is, and then they eat dinner on the couch while Steve keeps talking.

Bucky smiles as he listens. It’s like he can almost see the weight lifting off Steve’s shoulders as he talks about the people he misses, and nothing makes Bucky happier than seeing Steve happy.

When they’re done eating, Bucky cleans up and Steve goes back to his pictures. Bucky crashes on the couch with a book, and by the time he finishes the book, Steve’s done with hanging up his pictures.

“Come to bed?” Steve asks, wandering into the living room. “I was thinking we could get up early tomorrow and go to the farmer’s market.”

“Sure,” Bucky says. “Sounds good.”

He gets up and turns the lights off around the house before heading down the hallway to their bedroom. He walks by the new pictures hanging in the hallway and then freezes.

“Steve?” he calls.

“Yeah?”

“Who are these people?” Bucky asks, his voice sounding surprisingly normal for how hard his heart is pounding.

Steve comes out into the hallway and looks at the picture Steve’s staring at. “Oh, those are some of my friends,” he says. “That’s Natasha, she’s the one who went into witness protection.” He sighs. “I miss her a lot. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Bucky says weakly, and Steve smiles at him and goes back into the bedroom.

Bucky stands there in the dim hallway and tries to take a deep breath. It doesn’t work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time I keep thinking that the next chapter will be the last it just keeps...going...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of potential animal death in this chapter! (no animals die though)

Bucky pretends to take a long time getting ready for bed. By the time he actually climbs onto their bed, Steve is already dozing.

Bucky lies down just long enough for Steve to slip into a deep sleep. When he’s sure Steve won’t wake up again, Bucky gets back up and stumbles out of their room. He makes it to the kitchen and collapses on the floor in the dark, sitting with his back against the cabinets and his knees drawn up.

His lungs feel too tight and he can’t get enough air. He pulls his sweatshirt over his mouth and tries to keep his panicked breathing quiet, his whole body shaking.

This is too much. It was one thing when it was his own life that he was keeping to himself. His past is his to talk about, and no one else’s. It wasn’t something Steve needed to hear.  

But now? Now he’s going to be lying. Blatantly lying, straight to Steve’s face. Even if it’s more of a lie of omission than anything, it’s still a lie.

Bucky sits on the cold floor and keeps hyperventilating. There’s a good chance Steve would never find out. Bucky doesn’t _have_ to tell him. Nothing has to change.

But if Steve ever finds out, then Bucky knows that Steve would probably never forgive him for keeping it a secret. Understandably so.

Tears are suddenly pricking at Bucky’s eyes, which takes him by surprise. He never cries. But the thought of losing Steve over this is frustrating and upsetting and Bucky is just so tired of dealing with all of this. Even if he tells Steve now, he knows there’s a good chance Steve will pack up and leave, and Bucky will be all alone out here.

Which is maybe what he deserves, but it’s definitely not what he wants.

He scrubs at his eyes angrily, but the tears just keep coming, and his lungs keep hitching as he tries to breathe. Bucky abruptly gets up, grabbing on the counter for support, and heads back into their bedroom.

He crawls up onto their bed where Steve is still sleeping peacefully, his breathing slow and his arm thrown out over Bucky’s side of the bed.

Bucky kneels beside him, struggling to keep his breathing under control and he'd also _really_ like to stop crying.

“Steve,” he whispers. “Steve, wake up.”

Steve makes a sleepy noise and rolls over onto his side, not waking up at all.

Bucky gasps out another sob and grabs Steve’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Steve.”

This time, Steve groggily opens his eyes and looks up. He blinks at Bucky for a moment, and then his eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking panicked.

“I have to – I, I should…” Bucky stutters, still struggling to keep breathing. He’s still crying, his throat tight and his breath hitching.

“Bucky, what’s going on?” Steve asks, wide awake now. He looks scared, and concerned, and Bucky can’t help but cry harder. Steve reaches out, trying to pull Bucky into a hug, but Bucky shakes his head and stays where he is.

“I need to tell you something,” he says hoarsely.

“Okay,” Steve says cautiously. He reaches for the lamp on the nightstand and Bucky grabs his arm. For some reason, he feels safer in the dark.

“Your friend,” Bucky manages to say. “Your friend in the photos.”

Steve stares at him, a slight frown on his face. “Which one? Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky manages to get out. “Yeah. Steve, I –  I know her, Steve.”

“What?”

“She’s not in witness protection,” Bucky blurts out. “I worked with her. She worked for the same people I used to work for.”

Steve is completely still, staring at Bucky through the darkness.

“I worked for a government agency,” Bucky gasps out, in barely more than a whisper. “I was really young when they recruited me. I can’t – I can’t tell you the specifics, but I went undercover for years and it was with…” he trails off, taking another gasping breath. “I had to work with some really bad people while I was undercover, Steve, and I had to do really awful things to make them think that I was loyal. It worked, it took years but it worked and we took them down but it was a nightmare.”

Steve is very quiet.

Bucky rubs at his eyes. “I killed people, Steve, I killed people for them. I was good at it. They’re all gone now, they’re all either dead or in jail, but it’s still… I still think about it. When I got out from being undercover the agency offered me another position but I turned it down. I couldn’t do it anymore. So they paid me my money, made me sign some non-disclosures and I left.”

“What about Natasha?” Steve asks finally.

“She worked for the same agency I did,” Bucky tells him hoarsely, then quickly clarifies. “She renewed her contract, though. She didn’t get out like I did.”

Steve’s voice is oddly flat and even. “She worked as a buyer for a department store. There was a robbery and she got involved, that’s why she had to go into witness protection.”

Bucky shakes his head. “It was a cover, Steve. I didn’t know her well, but that’s a pretty standard cover. Did you ever visit the store where she worked?”

“Well, no,” Steve says. “But – “

“I’m sure it was convincing,” Bucky tells him. “She was good at her job.”

Steve is silent for a long moment, and Bucky’s eyes are filling with tears again. It’s annoying, and he scrubs at them angrily.

“Do you know where she is?” Steve asks. Bucky shakes his head. “Could you find out? I just want to know she’s alright.”

Bucky shakes his head again, his breathing becoming unsteady. “I can’t,” he says, his voice breaking. “I can’t, Steve.”

He loves Steve, and he wants to say that he’d do anything for him but he can’t do this. He got out for a reason and he swore that he would never, ever go back. Even if he could find someone who might be able to get in contact with Natasha –

Even the thought of trying to do that causes a wave of anxiety to wash over him, and it gets even harder to breathe.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says quickly. He reaches forward and even though Bucky tries to squirm away again, he gets a hold of Bucky’s shoulders and pulls him in. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

Bucky presses his face into Steve’s shoulder and tries to calm down. He didn’t want Steve to have to comfort him.

“Is that where you made all your money?” Steve asks quietly, a moment later. He’s rubbing a hand over Bucky’s back. Bucky doesn’t want the comfort, honestly. He doesn’t deserve it.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles. “It wasn’t worth it.”

Bucky spends a moment savouring the feeling of Steve’s comforting arms around him, then pulls back.

“I’d understand if you want to go,” Bucky says, using the sleeve of his shirt to clean his face up because he’s still fucking crying. “I won’t stop you.”

Steve stares at him. He doesn’t look angry, just concerned. “Go where?”

“If you want to leave me,” Bucky clarifies.

“Bucky, why would I want to leave you?” Steve asks.

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to stare blankly at him. Maybe he wasn’t clear enough. “Steve, I killed people,” Bucky says insistently. “I murdered them.”

“Because you were working undercover,” Steve says, just as insistently. “Did you want to do it?”

“No,” Bucky whispers. “Not at all. Not for a single second. It was awful.”

“See?” Steve says, like he’s made a point. Bucky doesn’t see it. “Bucky, I know you. You don’t even like killing spiders in the house, and you get sad when we see a dead animal on the side of the highway.”

Bucky looks at him miserably. “Doesn’t change what I did.”

“You were trying to do a good thing,” Steve says. He grabs Bucky’s hands. “That’s what you just told me. And you beat them, right? You took them down and now they can’t hurt anyone else.”

“Yeah,” Bucky admits. “But I… I still did it. I can never stop thinking about, ever. I think about it every day. Every hour, maybe.” Fresh tears are stinging his eyes again.

“Bucky,” Steve says sadly, and Bucky looks away. He’s glad they’re still sitting in his dark so Steve can’t see his face that well. “Come here.”

Bucky tries to move away again, but Steve tugs and tugs at his shoulders until Bucky’s collapsed against his chest for a second time. He cries into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand over his shoulders.

“We gotta get you some better help,” Steve says finally. “I can’t… I don’t know how to help you, Bucky, and I hate seeing you like this. If your new therapist isn’t enough then – “

“Therapy doesn’t even help,” Bucky mumbles into Steve’s chest. “I can’t tell anyone, Steve, I gave you the shortest version possible and I shouldn’t even have told you that. I only did because I didn’t want to lie to you about the fact that I know who Natasha is.”

“So what do you talk about then?” Steve asks. “You had a therapist before, too. Surely you talked about some stuff with her.”

“We talk about generic therapy stuff. She gave me tips on dealing with anxiety and stuff like that. Lifestyle changes and whatever. My appointment with the new one was just basically a meet and greet type thing.”

Steve is quiet for a moment. “But Bucky, I feel like you’re not… processing anything. I’m not an expert, by any means, but you just said that this stuff is all you think about. That doesn’t sound to me like you’re moving forward at all.”

“I can’t tell the truth,” Bucky whispers. His throat hurts. “I can’t tell a damn therapist what I’m really thinking about.”

“So change the truth a little,” Steve says encouragingly. “We can come up with another, similar story that won’t violate whatever non-disclosure things you signed.”

“Maybe,” Bucky allows. He’s too tired to think about it anymore right now. He’s _exhausted._

Steve is quiet again, but his body isn’t relaxed. Bucky’s is, though, and as terrified as he is of waking up to find Steve gone, he’s can’t stay awake anymore.

“We can talk about it more tomorrow,” Steve says quietly a few minutes later, but Bucky is too tired to do anything but lie there and let Steve run his hand down Bucky’s spine.

 

Bucky wakes up still feeling shitty.

He sits up groggily, his head pounding. Steve isn’t in bed, but Bucky can hear that he’s in the kitchen. It smells like he’s making breakfast.

Bucky briefly contemplates crawling back under the blankets and hiding there for the rest of the day, but he knows that Steve will just come and drag him out again. So he gets up and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Steve says, standing at the stove over a pan of eggs.

“Hey,” Bucky croaks. His voice doesn’t sound much better this morning. He stands uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen. He feels strange this morning, like he can’t quite figure out how to do even the simplest things like eating breakfast.

Steve looks up when Bucky doesn’t come any closer and puts the spatula down. “Come here,” he says, and then walks over when Bucky doesn’t move. He wraps Bucky in his arms again.

Bucky sighs, but he lets Steve hug him. They stand like for a few minutes until Steve lets him go and goes back to the stove. Bucky sits down at the table and lets Steve finish making him breakfast.

“Do you feel up to talking about last night?” Steve asks as they start eating. Bucky pokes at his food. It tastes good, and he knows he needs to eat, but he has no appetite.

Bucky shrugs.

“I was thinking – “ Steve starts, and Bucky narrows his eyes at him.

“Were you awake all night?” Bucky asks.

“Pretty much,” Steve says easily. “I was thinking of ways you could tell your therapist what you’re feeling and thinking about without saying stuff that you can’t.”

Bucky sighs. “Steve…”

“No, come on, I thought of some good ones,” Steve insists. “Here me out. We could say you were in the military – “

Bucky frowns. “But I have no idea what it’s like to actually be in the military. What if she asks me something about the military and I don’t know what to say? That lie is going to fall apart pretty quickly.”

Steve is undeterred. “Police? Firefighter? Bodyguard?”

Bucky stares at him. “Since when do firefighters murder people?”

“Okay, bad example,” Steve says. “Come on, Buck, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

Bucky sighs again, but he lets Steve talk him into concocting a vague story to tell his therapist.

 

Bucky’s new therapist turns out to be a bust. She keeps trying to get him to talk about his relationship with his mother (which was fine, and is not exactly the issue keeping him up at night). He gives up after two sessions, but Steve goes on an internet hunt and finds him another one to try.

The second one is better. She’s a very no-nonsense woman, and Bucky feels more comfortable talking with her. He has sessions twice a week, through video chat. It helps. Bucky’s still not sleeping through the night, but he can at least get a few hours in before he wakes up, and he’s finding it easier to get back to sleep again once he’s woken up.

 

A few weeks later, Steve leaves for the day. There’s no dentist in their small local town, and he has to drive almost two hours away to get a cavity filled. They make a list of other things they need, so that Steve can pick them up a bunch of groceries and other supplies while he’s out.

It’s a pretty uneventful day for Bucky. He sleeps in for a few hours in the morning, and then spends a large part of the day trying to fix the broken handle on their fridge.

Bucky doesn’t start to get worried until dinner, when he hasn’t heard anything from Steve. He sends him a text asking if he’ll be back for dinner, and then goes ahead and starts cooking. He makes two homemade pizzas, but when there’s still no reply from Steve, he puts his own pizza in the oven and puts Steve’s in the fridge.

He tries not to be anxious about it. It’s not like they text each other constantly when one of them is away, but usually they at least send a quick message so the other doesn’t worry. Bucky’s main concern is that Steve’s crashed the truck somewhere along the highway, but he also can’t help the underlying concern that maybe Steve just drove away for good and isn’t coming back.

Finally, Steve replies just as Bucky is eating his dinner alone on the couch. All the text says is “ _will be home late sorry.”_

It’s not a ton of information, but it’s better than nothing. Bucky cleans up his dinner and turns on the television, but he can’t focus on the show. The sun sets, and Bucky starts to worry again. He texts Steve a few times, but he knows that if Steve’s driving, he won’t reply.

Finally, hours later than when he should have been home, Bucky hears the sound of the truck coming up the road and relaxes.

Bucky goes outside onto the porch as Steve pulls up alongside the house. “Where were you?” Bucky asks. “Jesus, Steve, I was worried!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Steve says in a rush as he gets out of the truck. “I… did something impulsive, but there wasn’t even time to call you.”

Bucky frowns. “What did you do?”

Steve looks visibly nervous. “So… you know how we talked about maybe getting a farm dog? Like a border collie or something?”

“Yes,” Bucky says warily, “but you didn’t want one.”

Bucky had repeatedly brought up the subject of getting a dog, but Steve had always shut it down. Bucky knows it was a sore subject for him, after his previous dog had died, so he’s surprised that this is happening now.

“I know,” Steve says. “I was driving back and I stopped to get something to eat, and there was an animal shelter next to this diner, right? And there were people protesting out front so I sort of wandered over…”

“Steve,” Bucky says. “Did you get a dog?”

Steve looks like he’s going to cry. “Bucky, the shelter was too full, and they – they were going to put them down tonight, because no one would adopt them and I couldn’t leave them there, they didn’t do anything wrong – “

Bucky winces, because Steve’s eyes are welling up just talking about it. “Steve, how many did you adopt?”

“Just two!” Steve says quickly. “And neither of them are… they’re not really farm dogs, Bucky, and I know that’s what you wanted but we have all the space out here and they were going to die for no reason – “

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Bucky reassures him. “Lemme see them.”

Steve scrubs at his eyes and opens the door to the backseat of the truck.

“They’re not that friendly right now,” Steve warns. “I think they’re both probably terrified.”

“Makes sense.”

The first dog Steve guides out of the back of the truck is huge. It’s a massive dog with patchy grey fur and a muzzle strapped to its face. Bucky’s not an expert at guessing dog breeds, but it looks like some kind of pitbull mixed with some kind of even bigger dog.

“Jesus,” Bucky says. He can’t help it.

“I know he’s big,” Steve agrees. “Apparently he’s been adopted three times and brought back each time because he ate too much food and scratched up their floors and stuff like that.”

“Aww,” Bucky says softly. The dog, huge as it is, is cowering. Its head and tail are down, and it’s standing as far away from Steve as the leash will allow. It looks up at Bucky cautiously.

“I know,” Steve says, sounding choked up again. “Imagine thinking you had a new home all those times and then being brought back. I just – I couldn’t leave him there to die.”

Bucky steps forward slowly and takes the leash of the big dog so that Steve can get the other out of the car. The big dog moves slowly to stand next to Bucky instead.

The next dog that Steve gets out of the back of the car is tiny, and Bucky almost laughs out loud.

“Definitely not a farm dog,” he says, looking at the scruffy little thing in Steve’s arms.

Steve sighs. “I know. They said that she’s not good with kids, but families kept adopting her because she was smaller and cuter than the bigger ones. But she was too aggressive, and she would bark at the kids and try and bite other dogs, but – she’s never had a proper home or a proper owner. She’s never had anyone even try and train her. She’s young, she’s barely older than a puppy.”

This second dog is probably objectively cute, and it’s small enough to fit comfortably in Steve’s arms, but Bucky is a little afraid it’s going to bite Steve’s face. It’s growling a little, and practically vibrating in Steve’s arms.

“I got them food and a bed each, plus some toys,” Steve says. “I know I’ll have to go back and get more stuff later, but I just wanted to get them home.”

“Let’s get them inside,” Bucky says, and starts carefully leading the bigger dog into the house. He follows Bucky without lifting his head.

Once both dogs are inside, Bucky drops the leash. The big dog immediately heads for the corner of the room and sits down with his back to the wall, his head lowered.

Steve sets down the little dog, and she just stands there and keeps growling.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you first,” Steve says. “I know I should have, but I literally didn’t have time, I had to take them then or not at all.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky assures him. “I get it. I would have done the same thing.”

Steve relaxes a little, and goes to set some food out in bowls for them.

“Do they have names?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says, coming back out with two bowls of dog food. "But I don’t know how well they actually respond to them. This one,” he points to the smaller dog, “is called Polly.” Steve kneels down and puts one of the bowls of food in front of her. She snarls at him and then pounces on it.

Bucky laughs. “That’s hilarious. Animals with human names. I love it.”

Steve smiles, but it fades when he points to the big dog. “That one… his name is Devil.”

Bucky stops laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Steve says sadly, still holding the second bowl of food in his hand.

Bucky frowns. “Well, that’s just not fair. Who’s going to want to adopt a dog named that? They’re slapping a label on him before anyone even gets to know him.”

“I know,” Steve says. They both stare at the dog.

He’s still sitting there with his head lowered, the muzzle strapped to his face.

“Can we take that off?” Bucky asks. “Why’s it on him?”

Steve shrugs. “Apparently he tried to bite one of the vets once, but they did say that he hasn’t been aggressive since, and that it happened when the vet was giving him a shot so he was probably in pain. But they have to be safe, especially because there were little kids roaming around while I was there.”

“I’m gonna take it off him,” Bucky decides.

“Be careful,” Steve warns. Bucky moves closer to the dog, trying to keep his posture relaxed.

“Hey, bud,” Bucky says gently as he crouches down in front of the dog. “I’m gonna take this off you, alright?”

The dog is watching him, but he keeps his head lowered. Bucky very slowly reaches out and carefully unclips the muzzle from the dog’s face. The dog lets him do it, and Steve breathes a loud sigh of relief when Bucky stands up again.

Steve hands Bucky the bowl of dog food. Bucky slowly sets it down in front of the dog.

“Here you go,” he says. “All yours.”

The dog looks at it and turns his head away, pressing himself closer to the wall.

Bucky frowns. “Maybe he doesn’t like this type of food?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says doubtfully. “This was the kind they recommended to me.”

“Let’s try something else,” Bucky decides. “We’ve got leftover chicken in the fridge from a few nights ago.”

“We can’t start giving them human food!” Steve protests, but he lets Bucky try putting chicken in the bowl instead. Polly bounds over, sniffing, and Steve has to quickly pick her up so she doesn’t take food from the bigger dog’s bowl. She's stopped growling, and even licks at Steve’s face. He quickly feeds her a small piece of chicken when he thinks Bucky isn’t looking.

“I saw that,” Bucky says, and Steve shrugs and puts Polly back down.

 “It’s only fair,” Steve says. They both look down at the bigger dog, who doesn’t seem interested in the chicken, either.

“Let’s leave it for now,” Bucky says. “Maybe he’s just really stressed.”

They set up water bowls for both dogs, and then leave the bigger dog alone for a while. They sit on the couch, and Polly immediately hops up and settles in Steve’s lap.

“She likes you,” Bucky observes. “She doesn’t seem at all interested in me.”

“My last dog was like this,” Steve says quietly, gently scratching Polly’s ears. “He was a rescue, and he was really affectionate. Very anxious, though. Didn’t like to be away from me.”

“Well, she – “ Bucky starts, and then his eyes widen. “Steve! Look!”

The big dog is finally sniffing tentatively at the bowl. He glances over to where Steve and Bucky are sitting, and then slowly starts to eat.

They watch him quietly for a moment. “He needs a different name,” Bucky says. “I don’t want to call him Devil. Can we change it? Does he respond to it?”

Steve shrugs. “I’m not sure,” he says. “Devil!”

The dog doesn’t look up from his food bowl.

“Well, he’s either ignoring us or he doesn’t know it’s his name,” Bucky says. “Let’s just change it.”

“We should make it something really non-threatening,” Steve muses as they stare at the dog.

“Like what?” Bucky asks, and then immediately an idea pops into his head. “Let’s call him Sunny.”

“That’s cute,” Steve agrees. “Why’d you think of it?”

“No idea. Just thought it seemed like a friendly name for a dog.”

Sunny has moved on to drinking from his water bowl. When he finishes it, he goes back to pressing himself into the corner of the wall.

 

When they go to bed that night, Polly jumps right up on the bed with them.

“No,” Bucky says into his pillow.

“Why?” Steve asks plaintively. Polly has curled up against him, and he’s gently stroking her ears.

“No dogs in the bed,” Bucky says firmly. “I don’t want to worry about rolling over and crushing her in the middle of the night.”

Steve frowns. “You won’t crush her.”

“I might. She’s small.”

“You’ve never rolled over and crushed me.”

“You’re much bigger,” Bucky says dismissively. “You could handle it if I did. She’s got a perfectly nice dog bed on the floor,” he continues, but then he looks up to see how happy the little dog looks and how peacefully Steve’s looking at her.

Bucky feels bad now, so he scowls and sighs. “Fine.”

Steve beams at him. Bucky shakes his head and rolls over to turn his bedside lamp off.

They left Sunny in the living room, still in his corner. Bucky had pulled the big dog bed that Steve bought over to the corner and left it a few feet away from him, but the big dog had showed no interest in it.

It breaks Bucky’s heart a little to think of the dog sitting out there all alone, but they’ve left the bedroom door wide open in case he wants to wander in during the night.

 

The next few days are about the same. Polly has become very affectionate with Steve, and although she’s not aggressive towards Bucky, she doesn’t show any interest in him either.

Sunny remains sad and withdrawn, but Bucky’s determined. He spends a lot of time sitting on the floor near the dog, hoping that Sunny will get used to the company. He tries coaxing him to play with some dog toys that Steve buys, but no luck with that either.

Polly, on the other hand, has taken to following Steve around until he picks her up and tucks her under one arm.

Bucky’s hard work finally pays off when he’s sitting on the couch one evening, eating chips out of a bag and scrolling through Netflix. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and his heart leaps when he sees Sunny haul himself up from his preferred corner and slink over to sit near Bucky’s feet.

“Steve!” Bucky says, trying to keep his voice level and calm so he doesn’t startle Sunny.

Steve pokes his head out of the kitchen. “What?”

“Look,” Bucky hisses.

Steve smiles warmly when he sees Sunny. “Aww.”

“Now go away,” Bucky orders. “Don’t distract him.”

“Distract him from sitting on the floor?”

“Yes.”

Steve shrugs and goes back into the kitchen.

 

Sunny goes back to his corner when Bucky has to get up to eat dinner. The next afternoon, though, as Bucky sits down on the couch with a book, Sunny gets up and cautiously walks over. He hesitates for a moment, and then sits down right next to Bucky’s feet. He leans his head against Bucky’s leg, and Bucky almost bursts into tears.

Bucky doesn’t dare move. Sunny’s head is warm against his leg.

They stay like that for a long time. Bucky reads his book, and Sunny just sits quietly with them. Eventually Bucky reaches out and slowly puts his hand on Sunny’s head. When the dog doesn’t startle or try and move away, he’s able to start gently petting Sunny’s short fur.

The front door opens and then slams shut again as Steve comes inside, and Sunny flinches and darts back to his corner again. But still, it’s an accomplishment.

It takes weeks of hard work before Sunny starts to feel comfortable. He's still shy around Steve, and seems totally uninterested in anything Polly does. He likes to sit next to Bucky's feet or curl up against him on the couch, but he sleeps on his bed on the floor and doesn't seem at all interested in cuddling with Steve. 

At first, Bucky had assumed that Sunny would be more of a farm dog, just because of his size, and Polly would stay in the house. He's immediately proven wrong. 

Polly loves Steve, loves running, and loves the outdoors. She goes with Steve on his hikes and his walks, and has absolutely no problem catching up. Sometimes she struggles to jump over rocks or a fallen log, but Steve just picks her up and carries her until the path is clear again. 

It turns out that Sunny is aptly named. He loves nothing more than to lie in the sun on the living room floor for hours. He'll mostly do his own thing as long as Bucky's in the house, but if Bucky goes outside to hike with Steve or walk, Sunny hauls himself up and trudges along behind him. Not that Bucky's doing much walking - with his frostbite injuries, he doesn't stay outside in the cold for too long before going back in to warm up. 

Bucky spends most of his afternoons sitting on the living room floor with Sunny and reading, or watching a movie while Steve hikes. Bucky is sleeping better, and he feels more rested than he has in years. He feels... happy, which is a weird sensation for him and not one he's particularly used to. 

It's a nice change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh ok NEXT CHAPTER IS DEFINITELY THE LAST ONE I'm putting my foot down


	12. Chapter 12

The dogs settle in well. Sunny turns out to be perfectly content to spend his days lazing around the house, lying in the sun and flopping down over Bucky’s legs on the couch.

Polly is active and full of energy. She can easily keep up with Steve on his hikes, and she stays close enough to him that he rarely even needs to put her on a leash. The only time she struggles is when there’s a rock or a log that’s too big for her to jump over, but Steve just picks her up and carries her until the terrain is more passable. It's not like she weighs much.

They’re all adjusting pretty well, Bucky thinks. There are still a lot of things about their new home that take getting used to. Bucky has been a city guy for most of his life. His former method of grocery shopping pretty much consisted of walking down to the corner store and picking up some food there, then wandering back to cook it. If he needed a particular ingredient, he could walk a little further to a bigger grocery store.

Out here, he has to shop a little more strategically. They found that out the hard way after weeks of buying food, getting home, and eating all of the fresh vegetables and meat in the first few days. Then they'd get stuck eating canned soup and dry pasta, while Steve whined endlessly about how he wasn’t getting enough vegetables or protein.

So Bucky has a plan now. They usually get groceries about once a week, when they drive into town. Bucky stocks up on a bunch of fresh stuff, then makes a few big meals when they get home. He freezes most of it, and then they just take the leftovers out of the freezer when it’s time to eat. Bucky’s pretty proud of his solution.

 

The rest of their first winter is quiet and peaceful, but not the easiest. 

Bucky wakes up shivering. He sleepily burrows deeper into the blankets and slides over to wrap himself around Steve, who’s always nice and warm. He goes back to sleep, warmer now, but he’s woken up a few minutes later by Steve sitting up in bed.

“Stop,” Bucky mumbles crankily as his heat source tries to get out of bed. “Come back.”

“Something’s wrong,” Steve says. “I think the furnace is out. It’s too cold in here.”

“It’d be warmer if you got back in bed,” Bucky says, mostly into his pillow.

Steve sounds vaguely annoyed now. “You could come with me.”

Bucky pulls the blankets back up to his chin. “Nah. Scream if there’s a murderer.”

There’s a pause. “Why would a murderer have broken the furnace?”

“To lure you into the scary furnace room,” Bucky says sleepily, already drifting off again even though his nose and ears are cold.

Steve sighs pointedly and wanders off, presumably to check on the furnace.

Bucky dozes for a while, but he can hear loud noises coming from the furnace room that either indicate that Steve’s being murdered, or he’s trying to fix the furnace. He hasn’t screamed, so Bucky assumes that he’s fine and stays curled up under the blankets.

It really is cold, though. The chill seeps into the warm bed, and before long even Bucky is groaning and getting up.

He fell asleep wearing warm flannel pants and a t-shirt, so he shuffles over to the closet and grabs a sweater. He pulls some socks on, too, and then goes in search of Steve. Sunny, who’d been lying on the floor at the foot of the bed, gets up and sleepily follows him.

“Hey,” Bucky says as he shuffles into the furnace room.

Steve is sitting on the floor, a flashlight in one hand and an open toolbox beside him. He’s shivering, even though he’s wearing warm pants and a sweater too.

“It’s broken,” Steve says unhappily. “I have no idea what’s wrong with it, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Did you look it up?” Bucky asks. “There’s gotta be something online about how to fix a furnace.”

“Oh, there’s lots online,” Steve says. “”But anything more complicated than ‘make sure the pilot light is on’ basically says to call a professional and have them fix it.”

“Well, we’re not getting a professional out here tonight, that’s for sure,” Bucky says.

Steve looks mournfully at the furnace. “I know. What if the pipes freeze and break, though? What if we freeze and break? You already got frostbite once this year.” He looks worriedly at Bucky. “Maybe we should drive into town, stay in the motel for a few nights.”

“The motel doesn’t allow dogs,” Bucky says immediately. “What’re we going to do, leave them here? Besides, you really want to try and drive on the icy highway, in the dark, in the middle of the night, in the cold?”

Steve drops the tools he was holding back onto the floor and scowls. “Do you have a better idea? I’m all ears. I’m just trying to make sure we don’t freeze to death overnight or cause damage to the house, which is probably what’s going to end up happening because I don’t know how to fix a damn furnace – “

“Steve!” Bucky interrupts, and is rewarded with Steve falling silent. “Steve. Stop. It’s okay.”

“It’s n – “ Steve tries, but Bucky cuts him off again.

“It’s fine,” Bucky says soothingly, crouching down on the cold floor next to him. “It’s going to be fine. We’ll get someone to come in the morning to fix the furnace. We’ve got tons of blankets and the space heater – “

“The space heater barely works,” Steve mutters.

“The space heater is better than nothing,” Bucky corrects. “Besides, we didn’t spend all that time cleaning out the fireplace for no reason. You can get a fire started in it, right?”

“Of course,” Steve says, even though he still sounds cranky. “It’s not strong enough to heat the whole house, though.”

“All we need for now is one room,” Bucky says firmly, tugging at Steve’s arm. “Come on.”

Steve reluctantly lets Bucky pull him up. Bucky sends Steve to get the firewood, and Bucky grabs the blankets off their bed and then gets the spare blankets from the closet as well. Polly trots off to find Steve, and Sunny stays close to Bucky as he hauls the blankets into the living room.

Bucky pulls the cushions off the couch and then goes to get the pillows from their bedroom. He’s working on a makeshift bed close to the fireplace when Steve comes back in with an armful of firewood.

“Look,” Bucky says proudly, sweeping an arm out. “It’s great, right? Cozy.”

“I’m still worried about the pipes freezing,” Steve says stubbornly. Bucky rolls his eyes.

Steve spends a few minutes getting the fire going, and before long, the room is starting to warm up as the fire crackles and burns.

“Nice work,” Bucky says approvingly from where he’s buried himself in blankets. Sunny is draped over Bucky’s feet. “Now come here.”

Steve pokes at the fire one more time and then leaves it be. He crawls into the pile of blankets next to Bucky, Polly right behind him.

They shift around for a moment, getting comfortable. They end up with Bucky lying on his back, his arm around Steve’s shoulders and Steve curled up against him. Sunny is still lying on Bucky’s feet, but Polly burrows into the blankets somewhere around Steve.

“See?” Bucky murmurs, already feeling sleepy again now that he’s warmer. “This isn’t too bad.”

“Mhm,” Steve agrees, his face pressed into Bucky’s sweater. “Sorry I was so cranky. I just get stressed.”

Bucky clumsily rubs his shoulder, his eyes drifting shut. “I know. But we’re not in mortal peril. We’ll be fine.”

“I should stay up,” Steve mumbles. “It’s dangerous to leave a fire unattended.”

Bucky sighs, but it is actually a good point. “I’ll take first watch, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve says, and then his breathing starts to slow.

Bucky rubs his eyes with his free hand to wake himself up a bit. Eventually he gets up and leaves the warmth of the blankets to go get a book, which he struggles through for an hour until he concedes defeat and wakes Steve up. Bucky’s asleep within moments of lying down and closing his eyes.

They do get a repair guy out the next morning to fix the furnace. The pipes don’t freeze, and everything is fine.

 

Overall, the first year in their new home is great. Their land is beautiful, their house gets cozier and nicer with every renovation they do, and their days are peaceful and quiet.

Not everything is perfect. Less than a month after the furnace breaks, Bucky gets appendicitis during one of the worst blizzards the region has ever seen. Steve has to drive him to the hospital in the middle of the night on the icy roads with zero visibility. Although Bucky ends up being fine after the surgery and the recovery from it, Steve is mildly traumatized from it all. It takes weeks and Steve getting set up with his own therapist before he finally calms down about Bucky almost dying. 

Of course, just as they’ve recovered from that, Steve breaks his leg (and pretty badly, too), which means he’s confined to the house until he heals. Bucky finds out the hard way that Steve is a terrible patient, even if it was pretty funny when he was all dozy from the painkillers.

But Steve’s leg heals, and he gets back out hiking and exploring and just being outside. There's a month where he isn't back to his regular self, and he's reduced to sitting on the deck and throwing a ball for Polly to fetch, but at least he can still be outside and not stuck on the couch. 

 

Bucky’s old car breaks down in a dramatic way while he’s driving home one afternoon. He’s driving along, listening to music and enjoying the bright winter sun streaming through his windows when there’s a loud bang from inside his engine. Bucky quickly turns off the music and takes his foot off the gas, starting to let the car slow down, when smoke starts to billow from the hood and the car starts to lose power.

Bucky quickly pulls off the highway and gets as far over on the shoulder as he can without falling into a ditch. He’s lucky that the highway is wide, and he’s able to get his car completely out of the lane and safely off to the side. He turns the engine off and scrambles out of the car.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees that he only has 2% battery left. Just as he tries to open up his contacts, his phone dies completely.

“Goddamnit,” Bucky says loudly, to no one. The highway is deserted, with no cars in sight. He’s still about a thirty-five minute drive from home, and there’s nowhere nearby that’d be easier to walk to.

Bucky groans and looks helplessly at his car. The smoke has slowed and maybe stopped now that the car is off, but there’s no way Bucky’s getting back in and trying to drive it.

Bucky shivers and zips his coat all the way up to his chest. He’s dressed warmly, but he’s only wearing his driving gloves and not ones that will actually keeps his hands all that warm.

He suddenly remembers the emergency kit that Steve insisted on putting in the trunk of his car. He scrambles around and manually unlocks the trunk, opening it up and pulling out the emergency kit. It’s just in a black backpack, and he pulls the trunk shut and rests the backpack on top of it.

He pulls out the hat, scarf, and mittens, first, putting those on. There’s also spare socks, another coat, and long underwear, but he leaves those for now. He does grab the small hardwarmers and break open a few of them, shoving them into his shoes in the hopes that it’ll keep his feet warm. He trades his gloves for the mittens, and puts a few handwarmers in there as well. It’s a cold day, despite the sunshine, and he’s worried about making his frostbite injuries worse again.

Now that he’s a little warmer, Bucky stands there and considers his options. He could try and walk, but it’ll probably take him hours to get home and just as long to get back into town. He can try and hitchhike, but he hasn’t seen any cars in a while and this isn’t a highly trafficked road anyway.

Another option is to just sit here, wait, and hope that Steve comes to find him. That isn’t the worst idea, because Steve will definitely come looking for him eventually, but who knows how long that will take. Steve won’t be expecting him back for at least another hour or two, and it’ll take a few hours after that before he gets concerned enough to come looking.

Bucky groans and digs through the backpack again, because he really has no idea what Steve put in there.

He pulls out a couple of granola bars and a bottle of water. He manages to clumsily open one of the granola bars without taking his mittens off, and takes a few bites. He tries to lean against the trunk of the car, but the metal is already cold and he can feel it through his jacket.

When he finishes eating, Bucky resumes digging through the backpack. He pushes aside some more long underwear and another scarf and finds, to his great joy, a small plain cell phone.

“Oh my god,” he says out loud, holding it up reverently. It’s nothing fancy, just one of those small burner phones, but it’ll do the job.

Bucky turns it on and finds that Steve has already programmed a tow truck company and both of their own cell numbers into the contacts. He calls Steve and waits.

“Bucky?” Steve says sharply as soon as the call connects. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling on this phone?”

“My phone’s dead,” Bucky explains, “and the car just conked out.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky says. “Something blew in the engine. I just pulled over, I’m on the shoulder right now.”

I’m on my way,” Steve says immediately. “Where are you?”

Bucky looks around. “Just drive towards town and you’ll see me,” he says finally.

“I’m getting in the truck right now. Are you okay? Are you getting too cold? There’s handwarmers in that backpack – “

“I found them,” Bucky says, and shakes his head with a smile. “You really are prepared for everything, huh? I didn’t even know half this stuff was in here.”

“It ended up being useful, right? Hold on, I gotta hang up, I’m going to start driving. I’ll call you back on this phone if I can’t find you.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, but Steve has already hung up. Bucky huddles against the wind and wraps the scarf more firmly around his face.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take all that long for Steve to find him. Bucky sees the truck coming down the highway and groans with relief.

Steve pulls a careful u-turn and drives up behind Bucky.

“My savior,” Bucky announces as Steve gets out of the truck.

Steve looks worried. “You look cold,” he says. “Get in, I’ll grab your stuff from the car.”

Bucky doesn’t argue, and he climbs into the warmth of the truck. He pulls his mittens off and holds his hands over the heat vents, sighing in relief.

Steve looks at the engine of Bucky’s car for a few minutes, and then gathers the rest of Bucky’s things from the car and brings them to the truck.

“I’ll call a tow truck,” Steve says, once they’re safely inside the cab of the truck. “I have no idea what’s wrong with the engine.”

“Ugh,” Bucky groans.

Steve grabs one of his hands and examines it. “Your hands look okay. Are your feet alright? The frostbite isn’t getting too bad?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course,” Steve says. He pulls out his phone and starts searching up the number for a tow truck.

Bucky lets his head fall against the window and looks sorrowfully at his car. “I liked that car.”

“I’m sure they can fix it,” Steve says, “but honestly, I’d rather you just get a new one. You need one that’s better on the snow and ice.”

Bucky sighs again, but he knows Steve’s right. They’ve already had to dig his car out a few times this year before he could get down their road to meet the highway, and he takes the truck as often as he can anyway.

Steve calls a tow truck, and they wait around for it to show up. By the time the car is taken care of and they’re heading home, it’s starting to get dark out.

Bucky is dozing with his head against the window when an idea comes to him.

“Hey,” he says, sitting upright. “You should teach courses.”

Steve shoots him an amused look. He has one arm resting on the door of the car, and the wheel in his other hand. “Teach courses? About what?”

“Emergency preparedness,” Bucky says. “Outdoor safety. Hiking safety. Stuff like that.”

Steve thinks about it for a moment. “Who would I teach it to, though? This isn’t exactly the most populated area.”

It’s a good point. “Online?” Bucky suggests.

“Who would actually pay money for that?” Steve asks. “From what I’ve seen, most people are pretty content to be oblivious. They’re not going to pay money to learn about safety.”

“Some would,” Bucky says. “People who hike a lot, people who want to get into hiking, people whose jobs require them to work outside.”

“I guess.”

Bucky was getting excited about his idea. “You should start a website, you can put your online courses on it. Oh, and a blog! You should write a blog.”

Steve makes a face. “I don’t think I’m really… the blogging type.”

“You definitely are, you just haven’t tried it,” Bucky assures him. “You love to rant about things you’re passionate about. That’s exactly what a blog is for.”

“Come on, Bucky,” Steve says, but he sounds amused instead of irritated. “No one is actually going to pay for any of this.”

“I think they would! And it’s not like it would be a huge investment on your part. The website would be, what, maybe twenty bucks a year? And then the rest would just be the time commitment.”

Steve adopts a lofty expression and a haughty accent. “I’m a very busy man, Bucky. I don’t have time for such trivial pursuits.”

“Uh huh,” Bucky says, unimpressed. “I think you could probably carve an hour or so out of your day to work on this. This is such a good idea.”

“Why don’t you do it, if you like the idea so much?”

Bucky holds up his hands. “See all this frostbite? I’m not known for my outdoor survival skills.”

“You’ve gotten better,” Steve says. “Remember when I met you? You were screaming hysterically because a bird hit you.”

“First of all, I’ve never screamed hysterically in my life. Second, that bird was big and it was frightening and I didn’t see it coming. Besides, I’ve only gotten better at being outdoors because you taught me.”

Steve shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

 

It takes a while, but Steve eventually comes around to the idea. Bucky pays some small web design company he finds online to build the website for Steve, and then teaches him how to use it. They end up spending a lot of time on it, and kind of building a routine around it.

They spend most of their mornings outside, and then retreating back to the warmth of the house in the afternoons and evenings. When the weather finally starts to warm up, they have to abandon the website project for a while because there’s so much to be done outside. But once they get a handle on the weeds, rebuilding fences, and fixing potholes in their gravel road, things even out again and they can get back to it.

Bucky finds a small store that sells handmade outdoor furniture, and buys enough to fill up their porch. Steve orders some hammocks online (not as easy as it sounds – they have to drive all the way to the closest post office to pick it up, because things aren’t delivered to their house), and sets them up in the trees nearest the house.

Bucky ends up spending his afternoons working on Steve’s website while lying in a comfortable chair in the sun, both dogs sprawled on the deck next to him. When he feels like he has the website set up properly, he sits Steve down one evening at the table in their kitchen and the laptop.

“Here you go,” Bucky says proudly, gesturing at the laptop. “Start teaching.”

Steve stares at him. “Bucky, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Sure you do,” Bucky says. “Just pretend you’re lecturing me about doing something dangerous, except instead of talking to me, you write it down.”

Steve frowns, looking doubtfully at the keyboard, but eventually he sighs. “Alright. I’ll try it. I don’t think anyone’s going to read it, though.”

“If no one reads it, then at least you can use it to vent,” Bucky suggests.

 

Steve works hard on it. There are a lot of nights where Bucky’s half-asleep, waiting for Steve to come to bed, and eventually he rolls over and gets up. He wanders out to find Steve on the couch, hunched over the laptop and typing frantically.

“Come on,” Bucky groans, tugging at his arm. “I’m tired.”

“You wanted this,” Steve reminds him, still typing with the one hand that Bucky isn’t pulling on. “Just let me finish this paragraph – “

“It’ll be there in the morning!”

“But I’ll lose my train of thought.”

“Steve!”

“Fine, fine, I’m coming.”

 

Bucky sets up different sections of the website, organizing the information that Steve creates into easily-accessible sections. He also keeps a close eye on the website’s traffic as the website starts to take shape.

“Hey, Steve,” he calls one afternoon from where he’s sitting on the deck, squinting at the screen through sunglasses. He can barely see it with the glare from the sun, but the warmth feels too nice to go inside.

“What?” Steve calls back from where he’s half-asleep in one of the hammocks, Polly resting on his chest.

“There are four people reading your new post on campfire safety!”

“Really?” Steve asks, carefully sitting up so that he won’t knock Polly off. “Right now?”

“Yes!”

“Huh,” Steve says, and lies back down. “Cool.”

 

The website really starts to pick up speed after that. It becomes quite active, with lots of people leaving comments asking for advice or with questions they want answered. Steve, of course, loves it, because there’s nothing he loves more than telling people how to be safe.

“You should start charging for courses,” Bucky tells him, when they’re sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner one night. “You could do a whole course on water safety or something like that.”

Steve looks vaguely offended. “Charge them? I don’t want to do that. Safety is so important, it shouldn’t be something you have to pay to learn about. That isn’t fair to people who wouldn’t be able to pay for the courses. Hell, that’s one of the best parts of hiking and camping, that it’s an affordable activity. It’s not something only rich people can do.”

Bucky sighs. “Okay, fine. I can’t argue with that. I’m going to look into seeing if we can get any advertising revenue going, though.”

Steve shrugs. “Sure.”

 

That night, when Bucky’s nearly asleep, Steve rolls over and pokes him gently in the side.

“What,” Bucky mumbles into his pillow.

“I haven’t thanked you for setting the website up for me,” Steve says quietly. “I know you’ve put a lot of work into it. So, thank you.”

“Mhm,” Bucky says, his eyes closed. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Steve says, and then rolls over to turn off the light. Bucky smiles into the darkness.

 

Spring consists of a lot of building. They work a lot on the property, which has clearly been neglected for many, many years. They leave the forest and the space around it untouched, except to rebuild fences where they need to, but they put a lot of effort into the land around the house. They get a few sheds put up to store equipment, and Steve starts working on plans for a garage.

They’ve grown a lot more comfortable with each other, too. Now that Bucky’s sleeping better, and he’s a calmer person in general, they’ve gotten a lot better with their communication.

It’s not like they never fight. It’s inevitable that they’ll squabble sometimes, especially because it’s usually just the two of them together, all the time. That’s a lot of time to spend with one person. But most of their fights end with Steve just saying, loudly and firmly, “I’m going for a walk.” Then he’ll go out for a hike for a few hours, and Bucky will stomp around the house scowling for a bit. By the time Steve gets back, they’ve both cooled off, and within a few hours they’re usually okay to talk things out.

Besides, Bucky wouldn’t trade Steve for anything. If someone had asked him a few years ago if he’d ever be okay with spending almost all of his time with the same person, he’d have thought they were crazy. But they just exist together well. They get along, they make each other laugh, and Steve somehow doesn’t mind that Bucky still spends the occasional night wandering around the house aimlessly, unable to sleep and exhausted.

By the time summer rolls around, the house and the land looks good, and they have a nice routine down. Bucky knows they’ll have to get jobs at some point, or make the ranch into something profitable, but they have time to work on that. Bucky still has money left.

Bucky is thinking about it, one afternoon, so he idly starts searching the online job boards in the area.

He sees a certain posting, laughs out loud, and then goes outside to find Steve.

The state park that borders their property has an opening for a park ranger. Steve applies for it, and gets it.

It means that Steve is out of the house more, but Bucky keeps himself busy with the land and the house. He’ll probably get bored at some point and have to find a job himself, but he’s fine for now.

He’s sleeping better, he’s in what’s probably the best shape of his life, and he loves their lives together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S DONE!!!!
> 
> Thank you guys so much for your comments on this fic, you have all been so wonderful and I've treasured every comment. I'm so glad you guys liked this fic so much!! I'm thinking about turning this into a little series - I'm definitely not going to do another big fic for this, but a few little shorter ones might be okay. Let me know if there's anything you guys want to see specifically :)

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com)


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